Twenty Days of Torture
by IAmAlbertWesker
Summary: Leon is abducted by the head of security and traitor Derek Simmons. Simmons reveals that he plans to keep Leon locked up forever and subject him to extreme forms of torture. Will Leon find a way to escape, or will he lose his will and become broken, just like Simmons wants him to be? Rated M for: abuse, torture, gore, language, non/con, male/male.
1. Captured

Leon watched as Derek Simmons fell onto the top of a bullet train in an attempt to escape. Leon ran as fast as he could, reaching the edge of the platform and launching himself onto the final car of the train. He opened the door and ran through the train quickly before lifting himself up through a compartment in the roof. He approached Simmons and stopped, drawing his pistol and aiming at him.

"Give it up, Simmons. I've got you."

Simmons turned slowly to face Leon, his teeth grit. He tried to distract Leon by mentioning Ada, but the agent kept his sights on Simmons.

"Another team was sent after her, but you Simmons, you're all mine."

Simmons suddenly clutched at his neck, letting out a sharp cry of pain. Leon's eyes widened as he realized far too late; Derek Simmons had been infected with the C-Virus. Simmons fell to his hands and knees and his metamorphosis began, Leon watching on in horror as the man before him began to mutate. His skin looked like it had been carved open with a serrated knife, the pattern running jaggedly over his body. He let out a scream that turned inhuman as his body grew and molded into the shape of a large tiger with four very long, deadly teeth protruding from its mouth. Leon fired a few shots but none made contact, the creature jumping over him with ease. It dug its long claws into the metal of the train, easily tearing it open.

Leon turned on his heel and fled, running towards the back of the train in an attempt to put some distance between him and Simmons. He dropped inside the manhole, staggering as the train was torn open and Simmons climbed inside. Leon drew both of his pistols and began firing, aiming for Simmons head. He roared and swung out with his claws, Leon stepping back and narrowly avoiding being eviscerated, the tips catching the fabric of his dress shirt and tearing the top three buttons off.

Leon ran, attempting once more to distance himself from the ravenous beast. He aimed and fired the rest of his pistol ammo, the beast hissing and mutating back into human Simmons. Leon ran and punched the man with an uppercut, taking Simmons to the floor and straddling him as he wailed on him with both fists. Simmons growled and his skin began to shift, Leon quickly getting up and stepping back before the man changed again.

Leon lifted himself back onto the roof of the train. They had entered a tunnel, a second train running alongside them. Simmons jumped up, snarling, saliva pouring from his jowls. Leon drew his magnum and shot the creature in the head repeatedly. He changed back to his human form and fell onto his back, unmoving. Leon approached, lowering his weapon. Simmons rose to his feet quickly, grabbing Leon by the jaw and throwing him roughly. He landed on the platform of the second train, rolling onto his stomach dangerously close to the edge.

Simmons mutated again, this time into a bigger version of the creature with a large appendage protruding from his back. Leon turned and ran, the appendage firing small bolts of bone at him. He raised himself to the roof of the train and jumped across, the beast's rain of bolts narrowly missing him as he landed back on the first train and rolled. Simmons jumped behind him, the weight causing the metal to collapse and making Leon fall through the floor. He landed hard on his back, winded momentarily. He noticed Simmons now running beside the train, keeping the speed easily. The appendage on his back began shooting more bolts and Leon quickly ran, the thin metal easily torn through behind him.

"Our fun has come to an end!" Simmons yelled in an inhuman voice that sent shivers down the agent's spine. Simmons jumped, tearing his way through the inside of the train towards Leon, who lifted himself back onto the roof. Simmons launched himself back out of the train and ran ahead, turning and running straight for it.

"Leeeeeon!" He screamed in his thick, primal voice.

"Simmons!" Leon raised his magnum, firing at the monster as it approached. His eyes widened as several of the bolts were launched at him. He had nowhere to hide and couldn't react fast enough; three of the bolts pierced into his skin, two in his stomach and one in his shoulder. He staggered and Simmons jumped, mutating back into a man mid-air, the jagged pattern on his body dripping blood. He grabbed Leon by the neck, lifting him into the air. Leon gasped and made an attempt to raise the hand holding the magnum. Simmons caught it and wrenched it painfully, making Leon cry out and drop the weapon, which fell to the tracks below.

"Your time is up Leon!" Simmons laughed as he slammed the agent onto the metal of the train's roof, repeating the action several times before Leon went limp in his hold. As Simmons brought his hand back to deal the killing blow, something stopped him. A small, frivolous voice in the back of his head.

 _Wouldn't it be more fun to make him suffer?_

Derek lowered his hand and smirked. Oh, he would make Leon suffer. For the rest of his life.


	2. Day One

Leon was rudely awakened by a hard slap across the face.

"Rise and shine, _Leon._ "

Leon groaned as he came to. There were only two people he knew that could possibly put so much loathing into his name. Jake Muller. And Derek Simmons. As he recalled the events of the previous night he knew it to be the latter, which was not a comforting thought. He'd take Jake's company over this sadistic bastard's any day, even though the thought of the blond made his blood boil. His eyes fluttered open and fell on the man standing so proudly before him, a smug look on his face like he thought himself so much better than Leon, which made the agent scoff.

"Something funny?" The man spat, kneeling down so he could look Leon in the eyes properly, which burned with a fire-like intensity. Fuck, Leon hated this man more than he could muster into words or thoughts. He was still clad in the outfit he'd been wearing in China, except the top five inches of his shirt hung open, exposing the toned collarbone beneath. His wrists and ankles were bound to the chair by metallic cuffs too tightly closed around the skin, irritating and bruising it.

"Yeah, actually. The zoo called. They're wondering how you got out of your cage." Leon's snide comment earned him a growl and a hard punch across the jaw from the older male. Leon flexed his jaw, turning his head back to face the brunet. He knew that witty remarks would get him on the train to pain town faster than he should be, but it was worth it to see the look of rage on Simmons face.

"Listen to me, you insignificant little whelp. I own you! I have already contacted Hunnigan. She and all of your little friends believe you are dead, and none of them will doubt it with the story I gave. No one is looking for you, no one will find you. It's just you and me for the rest of time, and believe me, there are _plenty_ of things I just cannot _wait_ to try on you." Simmons straightened his posture and smirked down at Leon.

"You could at least buy me dinner first." Leon smirked back at him. God, how he hated the man! His quick wit and cocky attitude became tiring extremely fast. He wished he gagged the man. But when he listened to Leon's screams of pain, it would all be worth it.

"It is in your best interest to stay on my good side – I can quite literally smack that smirk off your face." Simmons turned his back to Leon, removing his gloves and setting them on a nearby table. He removed a cloth from the table dramatically, revealing the tools of the younger man's demise.

"Oh, good. You remembered the toys." Leon sounded relieved, his lips still tilted up on one side as his eyes ran over dozens of different weapons, instruments, and tools. On the edge of the table sat his personal affects; his wallet, his phone, and his earpiece. "What makes you think I haven't been tortured before?"

"Oh, this is a special kind of torture. One you haven't been trained for. You could say its borderline affection," the older man chuckled as he turned, walking back towards Leon, "you see, before I met you I never thought I could possibly hate someone so much. Just looking at you makes me sick; you're overly pretentious attitude is worn out, and you're cynical sarcasm tiring at best. I'm going to break you to the point where you have no walls, no barriers; you will be just as dead on the outside as you are on the inside. If it takes months, years, it does not matter; I have all the time in the world to do this and every resource at my whim to make sure you _live through it all_." Leon had never seen the mad so insanely furious without actually losing his cool. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he didn't let it show.

"Is that a promise?" Leon asked the man looming over him, equally anxious and exhilarated to see what the man had in store for him. He found it amusing how easily Simmons was irritated by his comments. It was like toying with a ravenous zombie; sure, it was funny to watch them struggle, but there was always a chance they could rip your fucking head off.

"Yes. I promise you won't enjoy it. One. Bit." Simmons enunciated as he gripped the bolt of bone sticking out of Leon's shoulder and ripped it out suddenly; Leon had to bite back a surprised cry as the wound that had partially healed with the intrusion inside reopened and began dripping blood. Simmons smirked victoriously and tossed it aside before gripping one of the bones protruding from Leon's stomach, tearing it free as well. As he got to the final one, he took his time, twisting it from side to side and pulling it out agonizingly slowly. Leon, all the while, held Simmon's gaze, his eyes burning with anger and malice. He knew the man was trying to extract some sort of pained noise from him, but he wasn't about to give in that easily.

Once the three protrusions were removed, Simmons produced a typical army issue combat knife. At five inches long, with a sharp tip, it had potential to do real damage.

"Now _Leon_ , why don't you be a good boy and tell me where it is?" Simmons asked, his voice calm. Too calm.

"Tell you where what is, exactly? I'm not psychic."

Simmons growled and pressed the tip of the blade against Leon's jaw, slowly sliding it down his neck and over his collarbone, leaving behind a thin red line. Leon turned his head away instinctively.

"Where is the data agent Birkin gave you before you pursued me?!" Derek's patience was growing thin. He was ready to cut the answer out of the smug man below him.

Leon's eyes flicked from the weapon to Simmons and he gave a faint tilt of his head, as if urging the man on. While Simmons was distracted, Leon's eyes flicked to his phone. The man clearly wasn't a thinker; the item of his desires was resting in the usb slot inside of his phone.

"No idea what you're talking about. Sorry." Leon falsely apologized, smug. There was no way he would ever tell Simmons the location of that data. It was far more important than his life; the information stored on the device could tilt the tides of battle to favor in either the good guys side, or the bad. And, though self-proclaimed as being one of the good guys, everyone knew the man was corrupt to the core. Leon was sure of it. He'd openly admitted to unleashing the C-Virus on the unsuspecting population of China, claiming that it was somehow good for America. The man was completely nuts. He could compete in a competition with Wesker for biggest nutcase of the year, although it would be tough to pick a first-place winner. Leon just hoped that Sherry and Jake had been able to relay the information back to HQ.

A sharp pain made Leon gasp, his eyes falling to his left thigh where the knife now deeply resided.

"Tell me willingly or not; I _will_ get the information out of you one way or another. Now, I'll ask again. _What. Is. On. That. Device?_ " He twisted the blade cruelly, opening the wound in Leon's thigh more, making the agent bite his lip hard. There was no way he would give in so early into the game. He leaned forward, only inches from Simmons face, and as his lips parted he could tell the older man was eagerly awaiting his response.

"Fuck you." Leon spat, sitting back. Derek pulled back in frustration, running a hand through his slicked back hair. He would have to use a different method to make the seasoned agent talk. He returned to the table, his eyes running over all of the instruments of agony. His hand reached out and gripped one, instinctively, a satisfied look on his face from the choice. A simple pair of dental forceps, small but sturdy and extremely efficient. He returned to Leon and held the item before the agents face, taunting him. His reaction was an impassive one and Derek was deeply disappointed. It figured; Leon would never show his initial fear before he succumbed to the pain.

Simmons grabbed Leon's jaw roughly with his free hand, stopping the younger man from turning away. Leon looked at him with those shining green eyes and he growled under his breath, squeezing and forcing the agent's mouth open against his will. He forced the forceps into the younger man's mouth, gripping the molar on the bottom back on the left side of his mouth. He could tell Leon's determination was starting to waver; the younger man was desperately trying to dislodge the instrument from his tooth. Derek applied more pressure, holding tight, and began pulling.

Leon let out a muffled cry, shutting his eyes tightly as the older man wrenched at his tooth, no anesthesia or painkillers to lessen his suffering. There were multiple cracks that sounded from the abused bone, sending a nauseous feeling right to the pit of Leon's stomach as bolts of pain shot through his jaw, the pain so intense he was sure he would black out. The sounds made him increasingly sickened, mixed with the agonizing pain that made him ache to his very core. The tooth wasn't coming free easily, but Simmons didn't care. He adjusted his position, twisting it side to side, abusing the tissues surrounding it and making them throb. Leon pulled at his restraints, the metal biting into the flesh of his wrists and making them bleed, desperately trying to free himself from his distress.

With a final loud crack, Simmons pulled the tooth free, stumbling back a few steps. Leon threw his head back and let out a scream-slash-howl-slash-cry, his eyes wide and wild, blood filling his mouth and pouring down his chin in a shockingly large amount. His vision blurred momentarily as he nearly succumbed to the white hot pain, his eyes fluttering as he treaded the border of unconsciousness. A sudden prick to his arm had the agent realizing he'd been shot with adrenaline. Every beat of his heart sent a fresh wave of pain to his all too aware nerves.

"Ah ah ah, can't have you passing out on me just yet, can I?" Derek set the tooth aside, admiring the crimson liquid that coated the forceps. His mind was already thinking of cunning ways to torment Leon, making him smirk to himself. Their fun had hardly started at he was already pleased with the results. He'd broken the younger man in a matter of minutes, and now knew it wasn't conventional pain that would make him writhe and scream. He turned back to the abused man, who was slumped forward with his head bowed. It pleased him deeply to see Leon so _pained._ So _broken._

Derek retook his position before the suffering man, gripping his jaw and tilting his head back. Leon's eyes found his own, attempting a weak glare, but failing due to the intense pain; he just looked exhausted. Derek forced the younger man's mouth open, pushing the forceps back in and gripping the molar on the bottom back, except this time on the right side. Leon's eyes became wild again and his struggle was renewed, though weak as he was his attempts were futile to say the least. He gripped the tooth firmly, twisting it back and forth cruelly in and attempt to loosen it. Leon let out several pained moans, his eyes tightly shut. Derek wrenched at the bone violently, cracking it under the pressure and snapping it right in half, pulling it free.

Leon let out another howl in agony, his eyes snapping open, pupils extremely dilated. Tears were sliding down his face, a new stream of blood running from the corner of his lips and down his chin and neck. His head was spinning, his vision swimming in and out of focus, his mind only able to think of the suffocating pain. He'd never felt a pain that burned as hot as this, sharp at first, then dulling down to an ache before repeating the process with every beat of his heart. He could taste the blood, and fuck; there was _so_ much of it. How could he lose so much blood and still be conscious, even on adrenaline? The crimson liquid filled his mouth, no matter how many times he swallowed it, the coppery taste and smell overwhelming his senses. The pain had brought with it a strange form of high; one he was sure he wouldn't get down from for several hours at least.

Derek set the instrument on the table, kneeling down to Leon's height and grabbing a fistful of his perfect hair roughly. He ran his tongue up the side of Leon's jaw, tasting the crimson beauty that ran down it in rivers, and _fuck_ did his pain taste good. He pulled back, staring into the man's reddened eyes.

"Now, I'll ask you again – what is on that device?"


	3. Brief Respite

Leon shivered noticeably. Simmons had _licked him_. Sick fuck. He glared up at the man, who was looming over him, still awaiting an answer to his question. A dozen possible snide comments swam through his head and he scoffed. Simmons was getting nowhere slowly, and while he had inflicted a great deal of pain on Leon, it wasn't enough to make him talk.

"Why don't you ask your mother – she knows." Simmons growled at the comment and tore the knife (which had been buried in Leon's thigh for the past few hours) free and pressed it to the younger man's lips.

"You better watch your mouth or I just might cut out your tongue…" Simmons eyes flashed dangerously and Leon turned his head away. From somewhere behind Leon, there was the sound of a door opening and hesitant footsteps.

"Mr. Simmons, sir. It's time for your meeting." Derek straightened, adjusting his suit and walked out of Leon's sight.

"Very well. Make sure he is tended to." Leon could practically see in his mind Simmons dismissive wave of his hand. The room was quiet for several moments after their footsteps retreated. Leon tilted his head back and shut his eyes tightly, the fluorescent lights above him too bright for his tired eyes. He had no way of telling the time and wondered how long it had been since Simmons had abducted him.

A man entered the room carrying a small kit of first aid supplies. He had blond hair and was clad in a white lab coat. Leon watched him intently as he set the kit aside and walked up to him, eyeing him carefully.

"Like what you see?" Leon said with a wink. The man sighed and gripped his jaw carefully, looking at his swollen skin. He produced a first aid spray and applied a small amount on either side, rubbing the concoction into the skin. Leon hissed and turned his head away. The concoction created a cool numbing sensation that reduced the swelling almost completely.

"Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the wounds inside your mouth. None of my supplies are safely comestible; you'll have to heal on your own time." The man gripped the hole in Leon's pants above his stab wound and ripped, making the agent yelp in surprise. He gave Leon a look before cleaning and disinfecting the wound using more of the first aid spray, then wrapping it tightly with bandage under the fabric of his pants. He produced a small key, and didn't miss the look of determination in Leon's eyes as he saw the item that would free him.

"Please, don't get any ideas. There are many men waiting for an opportunity to get their hands on you, and I promise they won't be gentle as I am," he gave Leon a pleading look. Leon had no reason to trust anything the man said. He was clearly some kind of scientist-slash-doctor for Simmons, and that made him his enemy by definition, due to his relation to Simmons. He watched as the blond man unlocked the handcuffs keeping him attached to the chair. Leon rubbed at his bruised wrists and stood shakily. The world spun for a moment and he nearly collapsed.

"Follow me." The blond packed his things and walked towards the door, stopping and turning back as he waited for Leon to follow. Leon didn't see any real reason not to; although he didn't trust the man, he did appreciate the opportunity to stretch his limbs. He followed and they made their way across the hall, into a private bathroom of sorts. Inside was a small shower, a toilet, a bench, and a sink with a mirror attached to the wall above it. Leon looked at the man, who was setting the timer on his watch.

"You have 15 minutes. When the time is up I will return for you. Oh, and Leon, don't try anything stupid." The man said, his voice holding a slight tone of concern. Leon scoffed. Figured. The man probably didn't want to tend to him more than he had to. The blond let himself out and Leon heard the door lock, sealing him inside with no possible means of escaping. Leon sighed softly and removed his vest, setting it on the bench before undoing the few buttons of his dress shirt that hadn't been ripped off. He tossed his shirt aside as well as his gloves and began unzipping his pants, but hesitated. He eyed the corners of the room, looking for any cameras. Thankfully there were none and he completely stripped. He turned the water on hot and stepped under, letting it pelt his skin. His wet bangs clung to his face as he stared at the floor, wondering what else was in store for him. His first day of torture had been horrendous, to say the least. He ran his tongue over the now open spaces where his lower molars had been, but stopped when he tasted blood. When he got back to the States he would be spending a pretty penny to get the roots of the broken teeth removed from his mouth. Leon considered pushing his tongue into the wounds constantly to keep them open and bleed himself to death, but decided against it. He would never take the easy way out, so long as there was a chance, albeit a small one, at his escape.

Leon couldn't help but wonder if Simmons had spoken the truth. Were his friends really not looking for him, having believed a fake story of his death? If that was the case, he had many long, pain filled days ahead of him. Even if Leon allowed the man access to the usb, there was no guarantee Simmons would free him or even stop torturing him. It wasn't worth ruining millions of lives in a weak attempt at saving his own. The man hated him thoroughly for being such a threat, unlike Sherry and Hunnigan that would never do anything to raise a finger against him. He'd even gone as far as labelling Leon an international criminal for crimes against the president… fuck, the thought made him tremble in anger. The sadistic bastard knew how close Leon had been to the president, both through his professional work and personal life. There was no point in dwelling on it now, though; it would just sour his mood and end him up in a lot more pain.

Leon turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing the towel from the bench and drying himself off. He slipped back into his clothes and tossed the towel aside. He wiped his hand over the foggy mirror and stared at his reflection. He ran his hand through his hair a couple times and assessed his damage. There were faint purple bruises under his eyes and along his jawline. Dried blood still partially clung to his chin and neck, and he ran the water, furiously scrubbing it off. More of the crimson liquid had dried around the collar of his dress shirt, but there wasn't much he could do about it. There was a knock on the door, pulling him from his reflection before the door was opened, revealing the same blond man that had let him in.

"Come on." He turned and Leon followed down the long, winding hall. They pushed through double doors into a large cafeteria. As Leon strode by, several of the soldiers looked up from their meals. Some smirked at him; others ran their tongues over their lips, or hooted at him, clearly appreciating the eye candy. Leon ignored them; there was no use making more enemies than he had to, especially ones that had access to where he was being held.

"Wait here." The blond pushed him into one of the seats at an empty table before heading towards the line awaiting food. The man had quite a bit of faith in him, it would seem. Leon looked about the room. Attempting to run would be stupid, as he was sure any of the men would love an opportunity to tackle and abuse him.

"Hey, pretty boy." A gruff voice caught Leon's attention and he turned. A man build like a brick shithouse was looming over him, his eyes as black as coal. He grabbed Leon by his vest and lifted him to his feet, glaring down into his burning green eyes.

"You're lucky we aren't allowed to play with you. I'd tear you to pieces."

"What, are you mad that Simmons doesn't like to share?" Leon smirked up at him, only to be rewarded with a hard punch across the face. He spun and fell to his hands, throbbing pain accompanied by droplets of blood staining the white laminate floor. Leon wiped the blood from his mouth on the back of his glove before getting hauled to his feet by an onlooker, who spun him and pushed him back towards Brick Shithouse. The onlookers had formed a solid circle around them, stopping any chance of escape. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Brick Shithouse swung a jab aimed for his head and Leon quickly ducked, using the momentum to spin and slide his leg over the floor, sweeping the man off his feet and making him fall on his ass. He smirked down at the man in triumph as he straightened, causing the man below him to growl and push himself to his feet. A pair of arms grabbed him from behind, locking his arms behind his back. Leon looked over his shoulder as he tried to free himself, but it was useless; the hold wasn't going to break. Brick Shithouse smirked and walked up to him, punching him hard in the stomach. Leon gasped and shut his eyes tightly after he received punch after punch, making his ribs ache.

A loud bang echoed through the room and Brick Shithouse stopped his assault. The arms holding Leon released and he fell to his knees, gulping in pained breaths.

"I will say this once and only once; if you do so much as touch him again you will be dealing with Simmons directly and he will _not_ be happy you played with his toy." Leon raised his head to see the blond scientist walking towards him, his pistol drawn and aimed right at Brick Shithouse. The onlookers quickly dispersed.

"Oh, and Tommy? He will be hearing of your actions. So you better prepare yourself." The blond said and the large man- Tommy- scoffed.

"Fuck you Sasha. Pet." He sneered down at Leon before walking off. Sasha holstered his gun and offered his hand. Leon took it, grateful.

"Thanks. I was almost pound into dust."

"Bringing you here wasn't a good idea, I apologize. We will eat elsewhere." Leon clutched his stomach as they walked. Sasha grabbed two plates of food and two glasses of water. They made their way back through the hallway and into a small conference room. Sasha set the food and drinks down, taking his seat. Leon fell into the chair across from him and sighed.

"Want me to take a look?" The blond offered, but Leon shook his head.

"Nah, I'll be fine, thanks."

Leon's eyes fell on the plate, his mouth salivating as he looked over the food. It consisted of cream corn, mashed potatoes, gravy, and pudding.

"Figured you'd want the easy stuff. You know, with your jaw and whatnot." Leon glanced at the man across from him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the blond had been looking out for him, even if it was his job.

Leon shoved a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and swallowed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten – probably at one of the many markets before he'd begun chasing Simmons.

Leon's stomach churned and he held it while moaning.

"Ugh. I feel like shit."

"It's to be expected. Just think, in a few days you'll probably wish you felt this good."

Leon scoffed. Sasha had a point. His first day of torture hadn't been easy; Simmons skipped right over the foreplay and dove into the hard-core stuff. Leon licked his lips, a strange taste on his tongue that he couldn't quite place. His mouth salivated too much to mean anything good, as he desperately tried to swallow it, his stomach queasy.

"Hey, are you alright? You don't look so well." Leon stood abruptly and ran across the room, dropping to his knees and clutching the small garbage can for dear life. He heaved as the pitiful contents of his stomach came up, burning his throat and making his mouth ache. There was a shuffling sound behind him and he felt a hand rubbing his back, so softly it was almost concerning. Leon slumped his shoulders, a long stream of blood sliding down his lips and dripping off his chin.

"Maybe just stick with water for now." Sasha gripped Leon's elbow and helped him to his feet. He nodded and wiped the blood from his lips, making his way back to the table and collapsing into his chair.

"How long do I have until Simmons wants me back?" Leon asked, staring down at the uneaten food. He took a long swig of the water, the cool liquid numbing the burning sensation in his throat.

"You have to go back pretty soon."

Leon sighed inwardly and finished the rest of the water. Sasha stood and waited for him by the door. As they made their way back, Leon felt the muzzle of a pistol press into his lower back. He looked over his shoulder at the blond, who shrugged.

"Gotta keep up appearances."

"Yeah." Leon scoffed and was pushed back into the room roughly, where Simmons was standing, arms folded behind his back. Sasha pushed Leon back into the chair and locked his restraints, leaving them lose enough so the metal didn't bite into his skin. He shared a look with Leon before leaving. Simmons approached, eyeing the agent carefully.

"Are you ready for round two, _Leon_?"


	4. Death

Derek spun the knife in his hand as he paced, the silver blade stained with Leon's dried blood. He stopped and faced the bound agent.

"Where is the device?"

Leon glared up at him defiantly, his lips pressed into a tight line. Simmons flicked the knife across his cheek, opening a thin cut that welled with small beads of crimson.

"What is on the device?"

Again, he was greeted by silence. He sighed and cut a line over Leon's collarbone. He had infinite amounts of time to play with the stubborn man, who still hadn't gotten the idea through his thick skull. He would make it easier on himself if he just told the truth.

"Who has the device?"

"Go to Hell." Leon spat. Simmons grinned, flicking Leon's bangs out of his eyes with the tip of the blade.

"You seem to forget who holds your life in his hands."

"Do I? Because without me, you'll _never_ get your hands on that data. I'm the _only_ one that knows where it is. So maybe you should back the fuck off before I withhold the information from you forever."

Simmons growled angrily, his flesh rippling as he fought the urge to transform. He drove the blade into Leon's stomach and stepped back, running a hand through his hair even though it wasn't out of place. Leon smirked victoriously through the pain.

'You'll have to do better than that."

"Oh, I plan on it. That is a promise." Derek ripped the knife from Leon's stomach, eliciting a small groan from the agent. He admired the crimson liquid that slid down the blade before setting it on the table and grabbing a large canister filled with water.

"Have you heard of water cure?" Simmons chimed as he approached Leon.

Oh, he'd heard of it alright. It was a form of torture that had been used since the 15th century. The victim was forced to ingest large quantities of water to stop themselves from literally drowning via suffocation. If the victim consumed too much water, they could easily die from actual _water poisoning_ , caused by overhydrating of the electrolytes in the brain. Or even less pleasantly, gastric distension, which can literally cause the contents of the stomach to come up the esophagus and spill down into the lungs, hence the drowning.

"You get points for being crafty, I'll give you that."

Simmons grabbed Leon's jaw and forced his mouth open, tilting the canister over his face. The cold water splashed over his skin and poured into his mouth. As long as he didn't lose his cool, he wouldn't have to worry about drowning.

Leon was forced to swallow the cold water, taking gulp after gulp until his stomach began to ache. His gaze met Simmon's and he glared daggers at the man, who looked overly smug. As the canister was emptied, Simmon's released Leon and he took long gasps for air.

"Hmm. You're more resilient than I initially thought."

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises." Leon sputtered, flicking his wet bangs out of his eyes. Rivers of water slid down his chin as he panted, watching the older man as he grabbed a second canister. He hardly had time for reprieve as Simmons took up his prior position and forced more of the liquid down his throat.

Halfway through a deep breath of air, the sudden introduction of the water making Leon cough and choke due to laryngospasm. He heard Simmons' laughter as he suffocated, his throat and lungs burning. He could see the terror in his expression in the reflection of Simmons glinting eyes. Leon frantically pulled at his restraints, the handcuffs biting into his wrists as he felt himself slowly dying. His struggle ceased and he went limp, an unexplained calm filling his mind as he lost focus on the overwhelming pain.

As he was released, Leon slumped forward, his eyes open and seeing but not registering anything. Water dripped from his lips and he was vaguely aware he could breathe again, but the near death experience had rattled him to his core. A firm grip on his chin forced him to look up, his unfocused gaze falling on the sadistic tyrant before him.

"Remember _Leon_ , I have nothing but time. I can play with you forever. Or, you can tell me what's on that _fucking device_!" Simmons spat angrily, practically seething. Leon managed a weak smile.

"It's the cure to the c-virus. And you'll never get it."

The cure? There was a _cure_? And the stubborn fucking agent was the only one that knew where it was, or exactly, what it was. He grabbed the younger man by the shoulders, shaking him roughly.

"Where is it? Where is the cure?"

Leon slumped forward again, his head hanging. His stomach was cramped painfully and he felt like his bladder was about to explode soon. He let out a soft groan, a wave of exhaustion overcoming him. How long had it been since he slept? Two days? Three? He couldn't remember. A sharp slap across the face had him hissing and gritting his teeth.

"What is the cure?"

"I'm tired of playing these fucking games, _Leon_. Tell me what I need to know and I _might_ show you mercy."

Leon scoffed. What good would that do him?

"Not worth it. You'll have to up the ante."

Simmons growled under his breath. That cocky, ill-suited, hopeless man _still_ thought he could afford to bargain in his position? What fucking nerve.

Leon's attention snapped to the handcuffs that were being unlocked, or more specifically, handcuff. Singular. Simmons freed the agents left arm and grabbed it, pulling roughly making Leon jerk forward in his seat.

"What is the cure for the c-virus?"

"I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you." Leon hissed at the man. Simmons gripped the agent's bicep and forearm, and in one quick movement, he snapped the bone right at the elbow.

Leon's eyes dilated and he screamed in agony, attempting to free the injured limb from Simmons, who tightened his grip in response. Simmons put pressure on the fracture, splintering it more and eliciting another beautiful scream from the younger man.

"What is the cure for the c-virus?" Simmons asked again, his patience swaying.

"I don't know!" Leon cried, waves of pain shooting up his arm.

"You lie!" Simmons snarled, adjusting his grip and snapping the bone a second time. He licked his lips as he watched the pained expressions cover Leon's face, who was far past attempting to hide his agony. The younger man was panting hard and shaking his head back and forth.

"I swear! Please!" Leon begged pathetically. Suddenly he was freed from the rest of his restraints and pulled to his feet by his injured arm, the wound sending more bolts of pain up his arm.

"Fight you pathetic whelp!" Simmons shoved him back, making the agent stumble until his back hit the edge of the table. He quickly grabbed the combat knife, still red with his own blood, and took up a defensive stance. Simmons advanced on him at Leon swung at the older man with the knife. His movements were sloppy at best and Simmons caught his hand, twisting it and making him drop the knife. He threw Leon against the wall, his breath hot on Leon's neck.

"What is the cure for the c-virus?"

"I don't know!"

Simmons growled, his skin trembling as his form began to change. His bones cracked into place as he took on a form that was half-human and half-beast. He gripped Leon by the vest, his claws scraping the fabric as he slammed the younger man against the wall repeatedly. Leon moaned in pain, his vision losing focus. He was tossed onto the floor, gasping as the impact forced the air from his lungs. Simmons was on him, straddling his body so he couldn't escape. A piercing pain made Leon's breath hitched and he looked down, seeing the claws embedded deep into his stomach.

"You will tell me what I want to know!" Leon attempted to push the man off of him, but his arms were slammed to the floor and pinned, making him cry out as his injured arm was abused. A thousand ideas ran through Derek's mind of how to make Leon suffer, each as enticing as the last.

Leon knew if he didn't say something quick he was in for another world full of hurt. He really didn't know what was on the usb, but Simmons was convinced otherwise. He would have to make up some half-assed lie in hopes of saving himself. He just prayed Simmons was dumb enough to believe him.

"Wait!" Leon cried out as the man stopped a punch that was aimed for his face. Simmons hesitated, wondering if the younger man had actually caved.

"The cure… it comes from a flower found in Africa. It's called Stairway of the Sun."

Leon held is breath as Simmons considered it. He had no idea what made him chose the flower, which had been used in strains of the t-virus. Simmons flexed his claws before striking Leon in the chest.

"You think me that stupid? Foolish boy!" Simmons let out an inhuman snarl as he delivered blow after blow, the satisfying sound of bones crunching heard. Something flashed in Leon's eyes, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. He attempted to breathe, but could only manage quick, shallow breaths, that didn't suffice his need for oxygen. Two of his ribs had broken and punctured his left lung, causing it to collapse. He trembled as he looked up at Simmons, the rage fading from his eyes and being replaced with the realization of what he had done. Leon smirked weakly, his teeth stained with red.

"You… lose." His head fell back and tilted to the side, eyes shut and body unmoving.

Simmons released his hold on Leon and stood suddenly. This couldn't be happening. In his anger he had killed Leon. He quickly produced his phone and called the medical unit for the building. In moments, Sasha and two other male doctors burst through the door.

"What did you do?!" Sasha demanded as he collapsed beside the fallen man, checking for a pulse. There was none, the man completely still. He didn't wait for an answer before lifting Leon into his arms and rushing out of the room, the two doctors hot on his heels.

Derek stood, frozen in place, staring at the spot on the floor that the broken man had been lying on only moments ago. How could he be so reckless? Leon was _his_. He couldn't lose him. Wouldn't lose him. He suddenly couldn't imagine his life without Leon in it. He ran a hand through his hair and paced. Even if Leon survived, if somehow he could be brought back from death, he would be incredibly fragile. That didn't matter at the moment, though. He made his way to the hospital wing, ignoring the pleas of a nurse, and made his way to the operating room. The door was locked and he watched through the window as Sasha unzipped Leon's vest and pushed his shirt aside, taking hold of the defibrillators and pushing them against the deceased man's chest. His body convulsed hard, but the line on the monitor remained flat. The process was repeated several times before the line moved, broken by several jagged lines. A tube was forced down Leon's throat and the men began slipping on latex gloves, preparing for surgery. The nurse guided Derek to the waiting room but instead he headed outside and lit a smoke, inhaling deeply. He was relieved that Leon could be resuscitated and let out a deep breath.

Leon's eyes fluttered open slightly. He instantly became aware of his surroundings, which appeared to be a lavish master bedroom. His eyes scanned the room, which was void of any personal effects, other than his clothing that sat folded on the bedside table.

 _Wait, what?_

Leon sat up quickly, the comforter falling to his lap. He was still in his silk boxers, thankfully. He looked himself over, about a third of his body was wrapped in white bandages. He reached up and pulled his bangs from under one wrapped around his forehead. Simmons had done a fair amount of damage to him, and he assumed his lackeys brought him back from the dead. He couldn't remember a thing after seeing the regret in Simmons eyes, but it was there. His arm still hurt whenever he moved it, but he assumed the bone was in the process of healing. He sighed and let himself fall back into the pillows. There was no point in attempting to escape; he could hardly sit up without his head spinning. He let his eyes fall shut, and in a matter of moments passed out.

"Sir, I don't think it would be wise-"

"Stand down."

Leon was awoken by voices outside the door. His eyes flicked to it as it opened, and none other than Derek Simmons strode in. Leon swallowed and forced himself into a sitting position, weary of another beating as the man approached.

"How are you feeling?" Simmons asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, figure turned so he could watch Leon. The agent scoffed and looked away.

"Like shit, no thanks to you."

"What happened two days ago was a mistake, I assure you."

"Mistake or not, you still killed me. Problem is, I didn't stay dead." Simmons' hand shot out and grabbed Leon's jaw, forcing him to stare into burning eyes. Leon had begun to have suspicions about the older man's intentions. While he was sure he wanted the cure to heal himself, he couldn't help but wonder if he had any ulterior motives.

"Do not say that. I have no intention of killing you, now or ever." Leon thought he heard concern in Simmons voice. Why would he care so much if Leon had stayed dead? Because he wouldn't have someone to torture day in and day out?

Leon couldn't deny the fact the brunets hand lingered far longer than it needed two, nor that his thumb brushed across Leon's cheek. He turned his gaze to the window, which had a small strip of light filtering between the closed drapes.

"For the next few days you will remain here until you recover." Leon watched as Simmons stood and made his way to the door, letting himself out. The audible sound of a lock clicking into place told Leon he had no choice. He was just thankful to finally have some time alone.

Sasha stopped by later in the day to bring Leon a bowl of jell-o and a glass of water, though he didn't linger. Leon had managed to eat and keep the food in his stomach, thankfully and proceeded to wander about the room. He emptied his overly full bladder and rinsed out his mouth, making sure to wash away any remains of the blood from his teeth. He found a short silk robe in the closet and wrapped it around himself, tying the ribbon around his waist and hesitating as he saw the small embroidered initials.

 _D. C. S._

Leon's eyes widened as the realization hit him. He was not only wearing Simmons' robe, but was holed up in his room. The thought made a dozen questions fill his mind, but one ate at him more than the others: what did Derek Simmons _really_ want from him?


	5. Pride

Leon stepped out of the shower, towel drying his hair before drying himself off. He slipped the robe back on and tied the ribbon tightly around his waist. It was his second day stowed up in the single room paradise. He'd busied himself by reading one of the books that was kept on a small shelf. He couldn't say he was really into the book; it was about advanced genetics and theories based on scientifically creating a perfect population, but at least it passed the time. His breakfast had consisted of scrambled eggs and bacon, just thinking about the meal made his mouth water again.

He paced the room, unable to fight back the nagging thoughts in his mind. How much longer would it be until he was dragged back into the torture room and his will was put to the test again? He knew Simmons would never stop until he obtained the data from the usb chip. It was only a matter of time until he would have to play Simmons sadistic games.

Leon sighed and lay back on the bed, sinking into the fluffy pillows. He might as well enjoy his time being pain free. He was on so many painkillers since his resuscitation that he didn't feel a damn thing. He let his eyes fall shut and figured he might as well get more rest. Although it was mid-day, he would need all the strength he could get if he wanted to ride this thing through.

Derek walked down the hall, syringe in hand. He had a smug grin on his face at the thought of what he would do to Leon yet. His idea was cruel and painful, but in a different way than traditional torture. He would give the agent a blow to his pride he could not withstand.

The sound of the door opening woke Leon from his slumber. His eyes snapped open and he attempted to sit up, only to be pushed back down my strong hangs. Simmons sat on him, legs straddling either side of his own.

"What the fuck? Get off of me!" Leon struggled as he saw the syringe held firmly in Simmons right hand. He smirked down at Leon and thrusted it down. Leon grabbed Simmons wrist, trying to fend him off. After a few moments he was beginning to shake as his muscles strained, unable to hold him back using just his good arm. He cried out as the tip of the needle pierced the skin of his neck and its contents were injected into him.

"What the fuck was in that?!" Leon clutched his neck while glaring up at the older man.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough." Simmons chuckled darkly and tossed the empty syringe aside. Leon attempted to push the older man off but Simmons captured his wrists and pinned his hands above his head.

"You look good like this. I assumed you'd be a bottom."

"Fuck you." Leon spat, his eyes burning. His tongue began to feel heavy in his mouth and a confused expression covered his features. Whatever Simmons had given him, it was hitting him fast and hard. Simmons held his gaze, watching the change in his eyes before releasing his hands. Leon made an attempt to push the man off, but could hardly move his arms. His hands went to the other man's chest but he couldn't control the muscles and had no force behind it. He looked at his splayed fingers and up at the man above him.

"I injected you with flunitrazepam. As expected, you are feeling the effects rather quickly."

"Y-you… ruphee'd me..?" Leon stuttered, his eyes wide. His body was becoming unbearably hot, his skin pink and flushed.

"Yes, with some added aphrodisiacs. I must say, I like you like this."

Leon was finding it increasingly difficult to talk. It felt as if he had a desert in his mouth, so he opted for glaring at Simmons instead. He mustn't've looked very menacing at all, because the older man chuckled and brushed his bangs from his eyes.

"I assume you know what I'm going to do to you. I'm going to enjoy every minute of it."

Derek leaned down, capturing the younger man's lips in a rough kiss. Leon moaned in protest, his fingers curling in Derek's shirt as he forced his tongue past his lips and into his mouth. His tongue explored every curve and crevice of Leon's mouth hungrily, his actions fueled by both hate and lust. He ran his tongue over the spaces where his back molars were absent, eliciting a pained whimper and being rewarded with the taste of Leon's delicious blood. He broke the kiss and moved down, biting into the tender flesh of Leon's neck, eliciting another whimper. His tongue ran up and down the length of the porcelain skin and he sucked on it hard, causing blood to well under the skin and create a reddish-purple bruise known as a hickey.

Derek sat back, admiring the younger male for a moment. The silk fabric of the robe didn't leave much to the imagination. It was hanging open at the collar, enough to expose Leon's collarbone and the upper parts of his pectorals. The bottom pieces had parted, hanging off his thighs and hardly covering his lower regions. He met Leon's burning gaze and the younger man had to look away, his pride clearly hurt. He forced Leon onto his hands and knees before him, the agent unable to do nothing more than groan in protest. Seeing him so pathetic and vulnerable had gotten Derek all kinds of excited, and he planned to exploit the man's weakness for the next few hours.

Derek got on his knees, straightening his posture as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his already hard cock. He smirked as Leon's eyes fell to it and he swallowed, his lips slightly parted as he panted softly. He couldn't deny that the younger man was very striking, and would have been ten times more attracted to him if he didn't hold such a fond hatred towards him. He knew raping Leon would strike a devastating blow to his pride and ego. He put a hand on Leon's shoulder, keeping him in place in case he suddenly found the strength to fight back. He guided his cock towards the younger man's plump, bruised lips, the tip rubbing over them as he turned his head away. Always so resilient. While the fact infuriated him it also made him pleased.

 _Fight it. Fight every moment of it. You'll only please me more._

Derek gripped Leon's jaw, forcing him to look at him as he guided his cock back to Leon's lips. He forced it past them and the man let out a moan in protest as his mouth was filled with it. Derek bit his lip as he looked down at the younger man, his fingers tangled in Leon's perfect dirty blond hair. Even with faint purple bruises under his eyes and a scabbed cut across his cheek, the man was undeniably gorgeous. This infuriated Derek greatly and he growled twisting his fingers in the silky tresses in an attempt to mess up the younger man's hair. Although knotted, each strand fell back into its perfect place and Derek decided he would have to taint the man on the inside. He trusted his cock deep into the back of Leon's throat, making the man gag involuntarily and caused his eyes to well up with unshed tears. He worked Leon's mouth for some time, deep and fast and merciless before becoming tired. He wanted to claim his prize _now_.

Leon was pushed back roughly, falling back onto the pillows as Derek grabbed his legs and pulled him closer. _No, hell no!_ While he was able to move his arms, he couldn't muster enough strength to stop the older man. He grabbed his wrists but could barely hold them, Simmons hands sliding up his thighs and pushing the robe aside. Leon's cheeks burned with humiliation as Simmons looked him over, a grin on his face. He struggled uselessly as Simmons lined his cock up with Leon's ass, no lubrication or preparation to make the act the slightest bit more comfortable.

"Stop! No!"

Leon cried out as Simmons drove his cock deep into Leon's ass, burying himself to the hilt. His nails bit into the flesh of the older man's wrists and his back arched off the bed. Sharp, hot bolts of pain shot up his spine as he was literally torn open by Simmons' cock. Leon was panting hard and shaking his head, all sorts of pained moans falling from his lips as Simmons stared down at him. After a moment the man began thrusting into him, recreating the hot bolts of pain with every thrust. Leon held onto the older man tightly as he leaned down, biting Leon's ear and swirling his tongue around the abused skin as their bodies rubbed against each other. Leon was hot to the touch, so much it was nearly unbearable. He could feel his blood sliding down Simmons' cock, lubricating it and making it easier to move inside his tight ass.

Simmons shifted his weight, falling onto his back while keeping his cock buried deep inside Leon. He forced Leon to ride him cowgirl style, thrusting his hips up into the younger man's ass. Leon's eyes widened and he cried out in pleasure as the man hit something inside of him that made him see stars. He slumped forward, his hands on Simmons chest as he panted. He wanted to feel the ecstasy again, wanted to get high on the pleasure so he could forget about the pain. Simmons noticed this and stopped thrusting, receiving a groan from the younger man who was flustered and frustrated due to his involuntary need.

"Ride me, _Leon._ It's the only way you'll feel that pleasure again." Leon's eyes widened. He would have to choose to sacrifice the small shred of his remaining pride in order to obtain his needed pleasure, or hold onto it and attempt to ride out the pain. He bit his lip as he looked down at Simmons, the older man clearly enjoying himself although nothing was happening. His cock was painfully hard and he knew he would have to find release soon or he would suffer some adverse effects.

Leon slowly moved his hand towards his cock. Perhaps he could just stroke himself to completion. His wrist was seized roughly and he yelped. Simmons was removing the silk drawstring from the robe and using it to bind his hands together, which he kept firmly on his chest and away from Leon's neglected cock.

"No touching. Do it my way."

Leon groaned in frustration. He hated being forced to do something so intimate with someone he hated with every fibre of his being. It was wrong on so many levels and if it hadn't been for the aphrodisiacs he wouldn't have enjoyed it at all. He looked away and slowly lifted himself up before dropping back down, an involuntary moan escaping his lips. He was disgusted with himself and wouldn't be doing this had the circumstances been any different. He began riding Simmons' cock, hopping up and down at a steady pace in hopes of hitting that magical spot that would make him see stars again.

Leon leaned back, changing his position just enough to allow Simmons deeper inside of him. Simmons pulled on Leon's arms, causing his back to arch and driving his cock into the younger man's prostate. Leon let out a dissonance of moans as Simmons began thrusting up into him, hitting the bundle of nerves with every thrust. Leon could feel the beginnings of tension building in his lower stomach as he approached his orgasm. His movements became uneven as he could feel exhaustion kicking in from both the drugs and the sex.

"F-fuck…"

Derek watched the younger man ride him with a smirk. His green eyes were glazed over and burning with lust thanks to the aphrodisiacs. He knew Leon would be having an internal struggle over wounding his pride, and he smirked up at him. Seeing the agent so vulnerable only excited him further, and he trusted into Leon without mercy. Leon let out an array of beautiful noises, moaning and whimpering as he was fucked. Suddenly he threw his head back and cried out, coming hard enough to make him convulse. His ass clenched tightly around Simmon's cock and he couldn't hold out any longer.

"No! Not inside!"

Leon's pleas were ignored and he felt hot ropes of cum shoot inside him. He fell onto his side on the bed, panting hard and covered in a sheen of sweat. His skin was burning hot and his eyes fluttered as he fought his exhaustion, losing the battle and passing out soon after.

Derek stood and zipped himself up, eyes on the agent sprawled across the bed. He smirked to himself as he took in the younger man's messy hair, flushed skin, and still hard cock. Fucking Leon had been his favorite kind of torture so far, but he had many things which he still wanted to try on the man. He ran a hand through his own disheveled hair and fixed his dress shirt as he contemplated what to do. He could stay and hurt the man's already shattered pride more by allowing him to wake enveloped in Derek's arms, or he could leave and get back to his business. A smirk spread across his lips as he lay across the bed, pulling Leon into his arms and wrapping his own tightly around the younger man. Oh, what a rude awakening he would get indeed.


	6. Pleasure

Confusion: that was the first thing Leon felt when he awoke. As the remnants of sleep slowly faded away and he became aware of his surroundings, he was sure of two things. The first: that he'd actually slept with another man, and not just any man, but his arch-nemesis Derek Simmons. The second: there was a pair of arms wrapped around his midriff firmly, keeping his back pressed to the person's chest.

As Leon came to his senses, he tried to free himself from the hold but it only resulted in him being pulled more tightly against the person, which he prayed was anyone but Simmons. At the sound of tsking, he looked over his shoulder and confirmed his suspicions. Simmons was smirking at him, his eyes gleaming.

"The fuck? Let go of me." Leon glared at the older man. He attempted to slide his arms free but realized his hands were still bound by the silk drawstring.

"Happy Birthday, _Leon._ I have a present for you." Simmons hissed in his ear before releasing Leon and grabbing him by the wrist, pulling the agent to his feet and dragging him along. Simmons pulled him through the door and into the hall. Leon blushed and tried to pull his arms away as he walked, keeping his eyes downcast as multiple soldiers stopped to appreciate the eye candy. The robe was hanging off his elbows and failing to cover anything but his ass. Simmons either didn't notice or didn't care, and they had reached their destination. Leon thought back to the older man's words. Was it really his birthday? He hadn't even known the date of his capture, but it would mean he'd been here for roughly nine days, give or take.

Leon was forced into a white, sterilized room. Sitting on the table were two large beakers filled with clear liquid. Simmons forced Leon over and unbound his hands before quickly grabbing his left arm, causing Leon to hiss as pressure was put on the still healing bone. Before he could protest, his hand and half of his forearm were forced into the liquid on the left.

Instantly the liquid began to bubble and he screamed, trying to pull away from Simmons, who easily overpowered him. The pain was all kinds of unbearable as the liquid burned and ate away at his skin. He struggled uselessly, tears falling from his eyes and his throat becoming hoarse from the screaming. The whole ordeal lasted under ten seconds, and his hand was removed and forced into the second liquid. It was cool and provided a surface relief from the pain, but his hand and arm still tingled with hot, static shocks of pain. Simmons released him and he pulled his hand from the water, assessing the damage. There were several places where the skin had been eaten away, revealing the sinewy muscle beneath. Other places were red and swollen. The entirety of the skin that had been submerged was dripping with blood. Leon stepped away from Simmons quickly, glaring at the man as he cradled his injured arm. The pain was enough to make him tremble slightly and he didn't want a repeat of events.

"Oh, don't look like that. The fun is just starting."

Simmons advanced on him and Leon's eyes quickly scanned the room as he backed up. The only way out was through the door behind Simmons, who held the look of a predator stalking his prey. He lunged at Leon quickly, who barely managed to step aside in time. Leon bolted through the door and started running, unsure of where he was going. He'd hardly made it fifty feet before a sudden weight on his shoulders had him crashing to the floor. He cried out as Simmons gripped both of his wrists, pinning them above his head and causing new waves of pain to shoot through the injured muscle. Leon could feel the older man's hot breath against his ear as he leaned down.

"Don't you _ever_ run from me again. You think you aren't expendable because of the information you hold, but nothing is stopping me from hurting your friends. Perhaps torturing Chris or Sherry would put you in your place."

"No. I- it won't happen again," Leon said through clenched teeth. He couldn't risk the safety of his friends over his stubbornness.

"Good boy." Simmons stood and pulled Leon to his feet, forcing him to walk by a strong hold on his elbow. Leon kept his gaze down once again as he was led through the halls back to Simmon's bedroom. He was pushed onto the bed and he rolled onto his back, only to be restrained by four metal cuffs and chains.

"Please," Leon begged as Simmon's was about to close the fourth cuff around his injured wrist. The older man hesitated for a moment before closing it anyways, but leaving it much looser than the other three. Most of the bleeding had stopped and the blood had begun to dry and scab. Simmons opened the drawer of the table Leon's clothes were resting on and produced a piece of cloth. He leaned in and forced it between Leon's lips, tying it behind his head and making an effective gag. Leon watched him with burning green eyes as he produced a vibrator before struggling uselessly.

"I don't have time to play with you today, unfortunately. So I'll let this do it for me." Simmons got onto the bed and pressed the toy to Leon's ass, the younger man letting out muffled protests. He gasped as it was pushed inside him deep, all the way to the hilt. He writhed and moved his hips, hoping to dislodge the toy, but it was useless. Simmons smirked and turned it on, the vibrations creating an uncomfortable yet pleasing pressure in his core. He watched as Simmons produced three silicone rings, which were stretched and placed around his cock. He gritted his teeth, knowing exactly what they were meant to do. Simmons turned and left the room without another word.

After an hour of submitting to the torture, Leon had enough. His cock was painfully hard and dripping with pre-cum, the silicone cock rings having kept him just below the verge of orgasm and stopping him from cumming. The vibrator was still deep inside his ass, the sensations keeping his muscles tense and causing the endorphins inside him to create a painfully blissful high.

Leon was trembling. Tears streamed down his face and a small river of saliva slid down from one corner of his lips. Three hours of non-stop vibrations had his mind reeling. His cock was swollen and he needed to cum so bad it physically hurt. His eyes fluttered and he moaned, desperate to find release. He tugged as his restraints for the twentieth time and looked at his wounded hand. The cuff around his wrist was loose enough that he would be able to pull his hand through barely, but not without a price. He pulled slowly and the sharp edges of the cuff bit into his wounded skin, catching at the base of his palm where the circumference of his hand was largest. He could tear it free, but it would rip the injured skin off and create new blazes of hot pain. He let out a pathetic whine and let his hand drop.

The door to the room opened suddenly, Leon's glazed eyes flicking to it. Sasha walked into the room and strode up to the bed, producing a first aid spray. Leon gave him a pleading look as the blond sprayed his wounded hand and arm. The spray reduced the pain greatly but did little to heal the actual wounds, which were too severe. His words came out muffled and Sasha set the empty can aside before reaching behind Leon's head and loosening the gag so it fell around his neck.

"Please… take them off…" Leon panted. He didn't know how much more of the torment he could take. The blond blushed slightly and looked away.

"I can't. If Simmons found out he would kill me, or worse. I'm sorry."

Leon groaned audibly. The door to the room opened again and two men strode in, one of which Leon recognized as Tommy, the man that had nearly beaten him to a pulp.

"Thought we'd find you in here. Boss ain't gonna be back for a few hours, so it gives us plenty of time to play."

Sasha reached to his holster to draw his pistol but was thrown against the wall roughly. The weapon was tossed aside and keys were pulled from his pocket and tossed to the other man, who began unlocking Leon's cuffs. Leon made an attempt to escape but a rough hand around his injured wrist made him cry out and cease his struggling. He was forced to his feet before his hands were cuffed behind his back tightly, tearing the wounded skin open.

Tommy punched Sasha in the face hard enough to make the blond spin around. He was thrown against the wall roughly and pinned, the larger man leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Sasha growled visibly.

"Fuck you."

"If that's what you want." Leon yelped in surprise as hands began running over his body, sliding over his muscles hungrily before going to the device still inserted in his ass. He gritted his teeth as his ass was gripped roughly and played with and the vibrator was pushed in and out of him. A groan in protest from across the room told Leon that Sasha was experiencing similar treatment, and he turned his head to see the man's clothing literally being torn off.

"Get your filthy hands off him!" Leon hissed. His words made the other men in the room freeze for a moment before Tommy and his friend started laughing, while Sasha just looked shocked. Leon hated to see the blond being taken advantage of. Had they met under different circumstances, he could see the man being his friend. And Leon couldn't stand to let his friends be hurt without a fight.

"You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut, toy." The man behind him growled and squeezed his neck tightly, cutting off his oxygen supply. Leon's eyes fluttered and his head tilted back slightly, teeth grit so hard his jaw hurt. The men continued the assault on them, growing increasingly hungrier as the moments passed by. Leon didn't want to admit it, but he really wished Simmons would return soon.

"Ahh!" Leon's neck was released and his eyes fell on Sasha at the sound of his cry. The only clothing that clung to his skin was the tattered remains of his lab coat, which hung in tatters. He was lifted into the older male's arms and fucked against the wall roughly, letting out cries and protests. Leon was thrown back onto the bed, letting out his own pained cry as his weight was now forcing the cuffs to bite into his wrists even more. His thighs were spread and while he was distracted by the pain his assailant removed the vibrator and forced his cock into him.

"Heh, you shoulda took Leon. He's far too pretty not to enjoy," the unnamed man said over his shoulder to Tommy, who chuckled.

"True, but I've been waiting to fuck Sasha for upwards a year now. Little bitch had it coming," Tommy said as he glared at Sasha, thrusting into him hard. "Simmons isn't here to save you this time."

Leon looked away, trying to focus on something other than his own domination and that of Sasha's. After a few minutes, he heard Tommy speak.

"Ready for our plan?"

"Yeah." The man pulled out of Leon and forced him to his feet before lifting him easily and lowering him back onto his cock, the man's arms under his thighs to keep his suspended and his back to the man's chest. Sasha was forced into the same position and Leon gave the blond a hopeful look as they were face to face, mere inches separating them.

"Kiss him." Tommy demanded and forced Sasha forward, causing his lips to collide with Leon's. His green eyes widened but he didn't have much time to think before the blond was kissing him deeply. Leon couldn't deny it was nice. Sasha's lips were soft and he tasted faintly of vanilla, the polar opposite of the monster Simmons. He let his eyes fall shut and kissed him back, their tongues dancing between their mouths. Leon ignored the chuckling from their assailants and instead focused on the man before him as the two began thrusting again, forcing their bodies closer. Sasha broke the kiss with a moan as their cocks rubbed together; sending a bolt of pleasure up Leon's spine that only fueled his prolonged lust more. Sasha bit his lip as he looked at Leon, who was panting hard again from having his strings pulled without the possibility of release.

"You have exactly three seconds to set them down or I will rip you both to pieces."

Leon and Sasha froze as the familiar snarl filled the room. Their assailants pulled out and let go of them, both men quickly stepping back as Simmons entered the room. His skin was trembling dangerously, and before anyone could speak he transformed into the blood thirsty beast that had killed Leon the last time he'd encountered it. He lashed out, his claws severing through flesh and bone easily, dispatching the unnamed man in a matter of seconds and spraying Leon and Sasha with small droplets of blood. Tommy turned and attempted to flee but was jumped on from behind, Simmons large fangs tearing through his neck and ending him quickly. Large pools of blood spread across the hardwood floor and Simmons reverted back to his human form, fixing his hair and wading through the blood as if it wasn't there. He gripped Leon's jaw and turned his head side to side, looking for and visible wounds.

"Don't touch him." Sasha said quietly, his head down. Simmons turned his cold gaze on the blond.

"You were supposed to protect him and you failed. Do not forget that you are easily replaceable. Now, you will stand there and watch until you are dismissed. Do I make myself clear?"

Sasha swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, sir."

'Watch? Watch what?' Leon's thoughts were cut off cut off as Simmons kissed him roughly, pushing him down onto the bed. He let out a muffled cry as his wrists were abused again. The older man's tongue ran possessively over his lips before pushing into his mouth, forcing his taste onto Leon's tongue. His cock throbbed painfully, subject to nearly four hours of neglect. Simmons broke the kiss and sat back, watching Leon as he gasped for air.

"Please, just let me cum." Leon begged. He was rewarded with a slap across the face.

"All in due time." Simmons forced Leon onto his knees, causing him to fall onto his cheek with his ass in the air. He could hear the unzipping of Simmons pants before his cock was placed against Leon's ass. His eyes flicked to the blond, who was still standing where he'd last seen him, watching the scene unfold. Leon blushed slightly at having an audience and thinking back to the few intimate moments they had shared. He swallowed and instead focused on the door across the room, an involuntary moan falling from his lips as Simmons buried his cock to the hilt. He pressed his face into the sheets to try and muffle more of the noises as Simmons fucked him fast and deep from the get go.

Derek watched blood dripping onto Leon's lower back from the open wounds on his wrists. The older man ran a finger over the crimson liquid and licked it, moaning. He could never get enough of the taste of Leon's pain. He leaned in, reaching around and pulling the rings from Leon's cock. The agent moaned loudly as he was finally allowed to cum. It took mere seconds before he shoot a large amount of the sticky liquid into the sheets beneath him, his body convulsing as he experienced the most powerful orgasm of his life. Derek smirked and came inside the younger man before grabbing the discarded keys and unlocking his cuffs. Leon collapsed on his back, breathing hard as he tried to recover and become accustomed to the fact that he was no longer suffering from prolonged pleasure-torture.

Simmons stood and ran a hand through his hair, brushing by Sasha on his way out. The blond showed no physical indications that he wasn't okay, but once Simmons was out of hearing range, he let out a sigh and collapsed onto his back on the bed beside Leon.

"You alright?" Leon asked the blond, turning his head so he could see the man's expression.

"Yeah, I think. You?"

Leon swallowed. He wasn't quite sure if he was alright or not, but he wasn't alone anymore. He took in the blond's soft features.

"For now."


	7. Resilience

Leon got up and grabbed the pistols from the fallen men, quickly hiding them under the mattress. No more than 10 seconds had gone by before two men came to drag the bodies up and clean up the mess. They didn't seem to notice the lack of weapons on the bodies and once they were finished and gone, Leon let out a sigh of relief. Sasha gave him a look.

"You think you can escape?" He asked, amazed by the agents boundless will to survive. Leon seized his clothing from the table and shrugged.

"It's worth a try. But not yet." Leon entered the small bathroom and shut the door. He trusted the man enough that he wouldn't betray him. Sasha seemed to dislike Simmons nearly as much as he did. He wondered if given the opportunity to leave, would Sasha come with him?

Leon turned the water on hot and let the silk robe slide off his shoulders. He stepped under the stream and tilted his head back, letting the water cascade of his skin. He had been here nearly eleven days now and couldn't help but wonder what else Simmons had planned for him. His methods of torture were slightly unconventional, to say the least, and Leon didn't doubt the man had been searching the internet for more cunning ideas to try on him. He brushed his wet bangs from his eyes and turned his arm over, looking at the inflamed burned and scarred skin. There was no doubt that the muscles and tendons would be permanently damaged, and although he could move his fingers slightly, there was an obvious strain and pressure behind it, due to a lack of control. He would probably never be able to fire a gun from his left hand again, which was upsetting due to the fact that he had become such a skilled sharpshooter when it came to dual-wielding pistols. He sighed and let his arm fall back to his side.

Once he was completely blood and grime free, Leon shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed one of the fluffy white towels and dried himself off before grabbing for his dress shirt. The fabric felt softer than he remembered and he put it to his nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled faintly of laundry detergent and he raised a brow. Simmons had his clothes washed? Several questions filled his mind but he pushed them back. He didn't want to waste his energy on something so unimportant. He got dressed and stepped out of the bathroom, seeing Sasha near the door.

"I should be leaving. I doubt Simmons would like it if I stay here. Plus…" He gestured at his tattered clothing and Leon nodded. "I'll be back to bring you some food later. Don't get yourself into too much trouble, alright?"

"Now that's a promise I can't make. Trouble is what I'm all about." Leon smirked, making the blond roll his eyes and take his leave. Leon sat on the bed and sighed. It probably wouldn't be long before Simmons came to retrieve him for more torture.

* * *

"Are you going to come along willingly or shall I make you?"

As expected, Simmons returned for Leon within a couple of hours. Leon knew the obvious choice, but it didn't stop him from stabbing fun at Simmons. He didn't doubt the older man had something up his sleeve for today, which he was going to find out about whether he obeyed or not. Pissing Simmons off was too much fun to pass up, even if it caused Leon more pain in the long run. At this point he didn't have much to lose. Simmons wouldn't kill him (again) because of his knowledge of the whereabouts of the usb. He was confident the man wouldn't do anything extremely serious or life threatening to him other than inflict more pain, and as much as it sucked, he would have to endure it.

"Guess it depends on which one of us plans on having the most fun." Leon crossed his arms. Simmons chuckled and approached him, his dark eyes burning. He leaned in, much closer than Leon liked, to the point where his hot breath was caressing the agent's ear.

"It will be me. That's a promise." Simmons grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him out of the room. Leon was thankful he chose the uninjured one, and made a mental note of all the turns they took. Left. Right. Left. They stopped at the second door on the left and Simmons unlocked it, pulling him inside. Everything about the room was sterile and white, the only things inside being a chair and metal cart, which was of course covered by a cloth. Leon was suddenly thrown against the wall, held in place by a firm hand around his neck.

"Where is the device!" Simmons snarled, his voice dripping with malice.

"Oh, we're back to this are we? Just when I thought your ideas were original." Leon forced a sigh, his lips tilting up in a slight smirk. The hand around his neck tightened and he glared at the older man, holding his burning gaze. "Fuck you."

Simmons released his neck and pushed him into the chair roughly. Leon made sure to give the man a hard time, deftly avoiding his grasp whenever he attempted to grab Leon's hands. Simmons growled and grabbed his injured one, slamming it onto the armrest roughly eliciting a small yelp of pain from the agent. Simmons smirked victoriously, pulling the leather strap tight enough to bite into the sensitive flesh before doing the same with the other arm. All the while Leon kept his burning green eyes focused on the older man.

"You will tell me, in due time. I know you know where it is and I will make you talk," Simmons dramatically tossed the cloth from the metal cart, making Leon roll his eyes. The man sure liked to fucking stroke his ego.

Derek rested his hands on the cart, eyeing the new set of tools and items on it. He would break Leon eventually. The man was insanely stubborn, he'd give him that, but he was less witty than he thought he was. He ran his fingers over the blade of a knife. He could cut out Leon's tongue, but then he wouldn't be able to hear every glorious scream of pain the man elicited. No, that simply would not do. Perhaps he would start with something small, slowly draining Leon's energy and resolve, then work his way up to something much grander. He smirked to himself. Now that was an idea. Leon glared up at him as he approached, kneeling down to get a better look at the agents eyes.

"So resilient. But for how long?"

In one swift movement, Simmons had Leon's left hand pinky finger between his own fingers and was pulling it back so quickly the _snap_ of bone breaking shocked Leon as much as it hurt. He let out a slightly delayed cry, bolts of pain shooting up his injured hand. Simmons had broken it just above the knuckle and licked his lips as he watched Leon's reaction. He released the injured finger and moved to the next, his ring finger, which also suffered the same fate. Simmons kept going, not allowing Leon any time for reprieve as he broke his middle and pointer fingers as well. With every snap was a more audible agony, the tones of Leon's screams increasing and lasting longer.

"Where is the device!" Simmons crunched Leon's hand tightly between his fist, making the agent writhe in his seat and attempt to free himself. He turned his head side to side, his breaths coming in uneven, short gasps.

"I don't know!" Leon cried his response, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

"Liar!" Simmons released his hand and slapped him across the face before walking back to the cart. Leon let his head slump, focusing on trying to even out his breathing and combat the pain somehow.

Simmons returned quickly, pulling the entire cart with him and stopping it beside Leon. He turned his head, watching as Simmons prepared what looked like a large battery and two metal clamps. He turned it on and waited for it to charge, slowly rolling Leon's sleeves up to his elbows. Once the light on the device turned green, he grabbed the plastic part of the clamps and struck them together, causing a small burst of sparks. His eyes gleamed as he took his place before Leon, making sure not to touch him as he pressed the metallic ends to his forearms.

A large shock shot through his body, causing Leon to scream involuntarily and making his muscles tense and contract in pain. The shock lasted a couple of seconds before Simmons removed the clamps from his burning hot skin, the skin slightly singed.

"Where is the device?" Simmons asked, all too calm.

"I don't know!" Leon pleaded, which earned him another shock.

"Where is the device?"

"God Damnit I said I don't know!" Leon screamed, both furious and wounded. Simmons increased the voltage, rewarding Leon with another shock, one that lasted much longer than the first two and had his vision losing focus. He threw his head back, his cries of pain lasting equally as long as the current flowing through his veins.

"Where. Is. The. Device, _Leon_?" Simmons enunciated each word slowly, taking in the way Leon was shaking his head, listening to every delicious broken breath fall from the younger man's lips. He eyed the beats of sweat that were sliding down Leon's neck and collarbone, and wondered if he would be able to taste the agent's agony if he licked them up.

"I don't know…" Leon said weakly, his eyes fluttering. How much more of this could he take? He could already feel his pulse stuttering slightly, thee pace uneven. If Simmons shocked him too much he could go into cardiac arrest. A final shock cut off his cries and caused him to lose consciousness.

Derek turned off the device and set it aside, putting two fingers to the side of Leon's neck. His pulse was alright, considering what he'd been through, and he would recover within a couple of hours. As he walked out of the room, he called for Sasha to take care of Leon's wounds. He slipped his hands into his pockets, already eager to test Leon again. What could possibly break the man any faster than this? As he passed the cafeteria, he found his eyes drawn to the windows which showed the sun shining down on a dense forest.

He had his answer: a taste of freedom.

* * *

I'd like to say a special thanks to Lee for your support and lovely review. This chapter dedicated to you.


	8. Frozen

"Are you alright?" Sasha asked as he stepped into the room, walking around Leon and stopping before him. He set the first aid kit on the metal cart, frowning at the sight of the tools.

"Just peachy." Leon groaned as Sasha released the restraints. He assessed the damage to his hand while the blond produced a first aid spray. His fingers were swollen and still throbbing with a dull pain, and if he focused hard enough, he could still feel the slightly off-beat of his heart.

"Here, this will help with the pain." Sasha sprayed his hand thoroughly and he sighed as the numbing agent kicked in. There was no doubt that he would have to go back to only using one pistol, and stay away from most two handed weapons like shotguns and sniper rifles. That was _if_ he didn't get a dishonorable discharge for killing the president, affiliating with the enemy, and betraying his country.

"Come on, there's some food waiting in the bedroom for you." Sasha packed up the things and lead the way. Leon repeated the opposite of the pattern he'd memorized on the way, and sure enough, they ended up back at Simmons' bedroom. Sitting on the side table was a plate of turkey stuffing, cranberries and a glass of water. He raised a brow at this, perplexed by the food that usually represented a holiday.

"Leftovers from lunch. It's thanksgiving today."

Leon scoffed. Figures. So that made it November 24th a.k.a Thanksgiving, if they were in the United States, which he assumed as much. As he sat and grabbed the fork, toying with the food while taking absentminded bites, he wondered what exactly he had to be thankful for. Thankful that Simmons had spared his life, thankful that he may or may not have a possible ally, thankful that at least his friends, comrades, and coworkers wouldn't worry about him because they thought he was dead? The thoughts were pessimistic, but he had the right to be sour. Hell, he would probably be here long enough to endure some sick Christmas torture that would probably involve him being some sort of a 'bad boy'. Leon shook his head, pushing back the useless thoughts. There was no point in brooding because it simply wouldn't get him anywhere. At least not right now.

Leon could feel Sasha's gaze on him, but the blond said nothing. He finished the food and set the plate aside before taking several gulps of water. The silence between them was strained and awkward at best, and Leon turned to the other man.

"What is it?"

Sasha sighed, the persistent frown marring his features.

"I'm supposed to lead you to Simmons. Leon, he has something crazy planned, I know it. You have to be careful, please." Sasha's words were rushed and urgent, as if he might not have enough time to say everything he wanted. Leon sighed and stood. There was no point in making things difficult for the blond, nor getting him in trouble with Simmons.

"Alright. Let's go." Leon couldn't look at Sasha anymore. He wondered if the blond was purposely withholding information, for both their sakes, or if his words were really based on gut suspicion alone. The other man had a conflicted look in his eyes, as if he was struggling between deciding doing what he should, and doing what was right. After a moment he opened the door and led Leon down the hallway, this time in the opposite direction he'd become accustomed to. There weren't any soldiers in the hallways and Leon wondered if everyone else in the facility was celebrating the holiday. He felt guilty for taking that away from Sasha, who should have been enjoying lunch with the rest of his comrades.

Leon lifted his gaze as Sasha pushed through the next door, a cold breeze biting his skin and making his hair ruffle. They were standing just outside the building, which was surrounded by a dense forest. The evergreen trees were heavy with snow, the branches drooping from the weight of it. The ground was blanketed with a couple of inches of snow, shimmering in the sunlight that provided no warmth. The beginnings of cold was sinking into his skin and he fought the urge to shiver. Why was he outside?

The doors opened behind him and Sasha gave him a look before retreated and Simmons took his place.

"Do you like the view? I find it very serene."

"What is the purpose of this, Simmons." Leon demanded, cutting right to the chase.

"I'd like to offer you a chance at escape. You've been so much fun, and it would be awfully rude of me to not at least give you a chance. You have ten minutes before I come for you. I hope, for your sake, that you are fast."

A chance at escape? Was this some sort of sick game, meant to toy with his mind? Leon looked at the other man, unsure of what to do. If he turned his back, he could be assaulted, but then again Simmons could do that any time he pleased. Leon had no idea where he was, what direction was north, or where the nearest town was. He had nothing to go on except his survival instincts.

"The clock is ticking, _Leon_. I suggest you run." Simmons tapped his watch and he decided he needed no further convincing. He ran into the woods fast, the snow crunching underfoot. It didn't really matter how far he made it; Simmons would simply follow his footprints. He would have to fashion a weapon and use his surroundings to his advantage.

As Leon ran further into the woods, the trees became tighter knit and shrubs covered the forest floor. The snow was less dense here, due to the cover from the trees. He focused on the sound of his fast breaths, receding to that distant place in his mind he went when he was in a life or death scenario. If he played his cards right, he would be able to escape Simmons and contact Chris or Jake. Assuming they weren't still in China, fighting the C-Virus. Assuming they were still alive. He had to put as much distance between himself and the facility as possible. He pushed himself harder, running as fast as his aching legs would let him.

" _Leeeeonnnnn. I'm coming for you!"_ Simmons' voice echoed around him, holding the hints of playfulness of a predator that knows it's more than capable of catching his prey. Had it already been ten minutes? He kept moving, unsure if Simmons would be taking advantage of his mutated form. He spotted a dense space between a bunch of shrubs surrounding a tree and slipped through, the branches biting his skin and catching his clothes. He turned and knelt, almost completely hidden by the cover.

Everything was deathly quiet; the landscape covered in a blanket of snow that seemed to absorb all sound except the beating of Leon's racing heart and his quick breaths. He watched small clouds rise with every exhale before vanishing into the air. If he focused hard enough, he could hear rushing water. He spotted a broken branch, splintered at one end providing a sufficient weapon. He reached out and gripped it tightly in one hand, using the other to cover his mouth and muffle the sounds of his breathing. His back was pressed against the cold bark of the tree trunk. He had an ample amount of cover, knelt down in the brush tightly. His hand shook slightly and he tightened his grip on the branch, stopping the movements. The air was painfully cold and it took every ounce of his will to stop his teeth from chattering. One mistake meant he could lose his freedom. He couldn't risk that.

"I know you're close, _Leon_. I can smell your fear." Simmons' inhuman voice broke the silence and Leon could hear his footsteps, two sets, causing the snow to crunch loudly under his weight. He was literally hunting Leon like an animal. His pulse was racing and he braced himself, fueled by adrenaline and his will to survive. The footsteps grew closer and closer, and he wondered if Simmons could actually smell his fear. At this point he was shaking from the cold, buildup of adrenaline, and of course fear. He positioned the branch in his hand like a sword, holding it pointed out and up. Simmons was practically on top of him and he stopped breathing all together, listening to the sickening noises of the beast licking its chops and strings of saliva dripping into the snow.

A set of claws slashed through the brush suddenly, eviscerating it and revealing Leon. He stared into the face of the monster and cried out, driving the branch up into Simmon's chest. Or, at least he tried to. The weapon simply bounced off the strong bone and fell from Leon's hands. He ducked as claws slashed above him, cutting through the tree and sending chips of wood raining down on him. He straightened and ran away from Simmons, who tore his claws free and took chase.

Leon tripped over an exposed root, plummeting to the ground and rolling down the snow as it angled into a slope. The world was spinning and he couldn't make any sense of what was happening before he was suddenly sliding across ice on his stomach. He watched in horror as the thin pane fractured, long, jagged cracks shooting outward from where he was, shocked still. It gave, shattering and engulfing him with freezing cold water, making him cry out as he went under. The current was strong and nearly impossible to fight against, Leon struggling to find the surface as he held his breath.

Leon managed to break the surface, taking in large, painful gasps of precious oxygen that filled his lungs. He was being carried downstream fast, and he attempted to wade to the edge of the water but the current kept pulling him back to the center. Ahead was another sheet of ice, and he tried to throw himself on top of it. The ice was cold and razor sharp, biting into his exposed forearms and causing droplets of blood to fall onto the transparent surface. As Leon pulled his torso onto the ice, it gave under his weight and a large chunk broke off, sending him falling back into the water and it consumed him once more.

Leon was beginning to panic as drowning became a real possibility. His heart was racing much faster than when Simmons had been hunting him. Drowning was one of the last ways he wanted to die, because there was so much pain brought with it and it took an eternity to end. His lungs began to burn, having been deprived of oxygen for too long, and the burning was soon replaced by an increasing pain. He tried to break the surface, but his hands pushed on firm, hard ice that seemed to continue for a fair length of the small river. He hit it as hard as he could, ran his hands across every inch that he could reach, all in hopes of finding an escape. He was swimming in his tomb and in a matter of seconds he would fall unconscious and shortly after he would die.

His hand broke the surface and he pushed himself up, attempting to take several breaths of air. Leon only managed to fill his lungs once, with far too little oxygen, before the rest of his breaths were negated by a splash of water filling his mouth. Leon coughed and felt his foot wedge between two rocks, his eyes widening as he was pulled back under, but this time kept in place. He attempted to pull his foot free, but had no strength under the water. He twisted in an effort to rise to the surface, using all of his strength to try and fight against the current, but it was too strong and kept him submerged only inches below the surface. He looked at the blurred trees and sky through the water, at a world that was as quiet above the water as it was below. He tried to hold his breath as long as he could, but after a minute he was forced to inhale. Cold water rushed down his throat and filled his lungs, making him cough and gasp harder, thus repeating the action. He'd never been so scared in his life as he was in this moment. He would die cold and alone and no one would know, no one would care. No one might ever find his body. His vision began blurring with the weak beats of his heart, the pain in his lungs remaining although every other part of his body was numb.

Leon screamed, the last precious molecules of air leaving his body. Something changed inside him and suddenly the pain stopped. He felt his eyes falling shut. This was it. He didn't see his life flash before his eyes, nor did he have any final thoughts, other than a calm acceptance of his death. He faintly felt something grasp his wrist and he was torn from the water, his eyes snapping open, wild with dilated pupils. Suddenly he was aware he was no longer under the water and attempted to breathe, but something was stopping him. A hard strike to his back had him coughing up water, his lungs an esophagus burning as the liquid was forced out of his body with every violent hack. He was overwhelmed by the all-consuming cold that enveloped him, biting at his skin and sinking into his bones as if every ounce of heat had been sucked from his body. He slumped, his fingers curled in Simmon's shirt tightly.

* * *

" _Leon!_ " Derek pulled the man from the water, falling back into the snow and holding Leon against him. He struck the agents back hard, and suddenly Leon was coughing up water accompanied by cries of agony. He felt the man clutching him hard, Leon's entire body shaking from hypoxic convulsions. His skin was deathly pale and his lips had lost their rosy color, having turned into a faint shade of blue. His coughing turned into violent spasms as the water was ejected from his body and replaced with small amounts of blood, the crimson liquid staining the snow in a shocking contrast. Once he regained his breath, Leon didn't move except for the uncontrollable shaking from both adrenaline and the cold.

Derek sat up, quickly removing his suit jacket and draping it over the younger man's shoulders. Leon's eyes were shut tightly and he was clearly fighting unconsciousness. He couldn't allow him to fall asleep in this state, if he did his body might shut down and he would die. He was careful when he stood; keeping a firm hand on Leon so he wouldn't collapse. He mutated back into his beast form, positioning himself in front of Leon and kneeling down. The younger man collapsed onto his back, nestled safely between his shoulders.

" _Hold on tight."_ His voice lacked its usual snarl as he pushed himself up on all fours and began scaling the hill. He could feel Leon's arms wrapped tight around his chest as he hauled them to the top and began running through the forest as fast as he could. It had begun to snow, the small flakes slowly drifting down from the grey sky and landing amongst the white scenery. It was strangely peaceful despite what was happening.

The facility came into sight and Derek ground to a halt once he reached it, all four sets of claws scraping through the snow and digging into the frozen ground beneath. He straightened, standing on his rear legs, muscle shifting and bone cracking to condense into his human form. Leon's arms were still draped around his shoulders, his face pressed into Derek's back. His shivering had lessened and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Derek gripped Leon's thighs; supporting his weight and kicking open the door. He ran inside, weaving through the halls and pushing into his bedroom. One of the young housekeepers that worked on the premises startled as she was making the bed.

"Warm me up a blanket and bring it now!" She nodded and ran out of the room quickly and he set Leon on his feet, keeping the agents back against the wall. He could put the man in the shower with the water hot, but risked warming him up too quickly and shocking his system, inflicting severe cellular damage, or causing him to suffer a heart attack or stroke. He had to warm Leon up slowly, which was mentally excruciating because the younger man could fall victim to hypothermia or shock, which were all too real possibilities. Leon had a run in with death once already, and Derek would not let it happen again. He tossed his jacket on the floor and began stripping Leon of his soaking wet clothing, starting with his dress shirt. As the fabric was removed from his body he let out a quiet cry and pushed at Derek's hands feebly.

"N-no…"

He ignored Leon's pleas and pushed his hands aside, the man too weak to attempt resisting further. Once the younger man was free of the wet clothing he carried him to the bed, tossing aside the sheets and laying him on his back. The housekeeper returned, holding a large, fluffy blanket bundled in her arms. He took it from her and she left as he unfurled it, draping it over Leon who moaned softly from the warmth of the heated fabric. He tossed the sheets and comforter over him as well, hoping the heat would stay in and warm him adequately.

Derek let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and loosened his tie, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching Leon intently.

"Hey!" He snapped loudly, waking the agent from his stupor, "no falling asleep. You have to stay awake for now." Leon's half-lidded green eyes fell on him and his gaze didn't shift for what felt like hours. He swallowed, his voice rough and quiet.

"Why didn't you just let me drown?"

The question took him by surprise. The first reason that came to mind was that Leon was the only one that knew where the data was being kept, but it didn't feel right. Like he was trying to convince himself of a lie. He'd been genuinely frightened when he watched the younger man fall through the ice, a pain like that of fingers digging into his heart.

"You still hold valuable information. Do not mistake my pity for kindness." The words felt wrong on his tongue and he regretted saying them the moment they were spoken. And by the way Leon was watching him; he didn't doubt Leon knew it too.

Leon finally adverted his gaze, instead focusing on the far wall. What exactly was Simmons playing at? The man was a terrible liar, and yet Leon couldn't help but feel thankful that Simmons had saved him. Perhaps he was overthinking things, and Simmons really did want the data more than he hated Leon or wanted him dead. A frightening thought filled his mind, one that made him feel colder. What if Simmons was falling in love with him? He tried to focus on his hate for the man, but couldn't seem to find it. He swallowed, the action making his throat even sorer as a worse thought filled his mind.

What if he was falling in love with Derek Simmons?

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to Leehigh777and SUPASTAR89. Thank you for the reviews, your support is very appreciated!


	9. Zombie

At some point in the night Simmon's must have fallen asleep because there was no more constant nudging to keep Leon awake. Although he warmed up, a chill still remained etched in his bones. Despite the pain, he managed to fall into a restless sleep, tossing and turning under the layers of blankets. He was back in the river, deep under the surface and swallowing mouthfuls of water that made his lungs burn like wildfire. He kept fighting to breathe, but more of the cold liquid filled his mouth. Somehow he managed to find voice and screamed. Simmons was woken by the sound of the screaming and he saw Leon sitting up, clutching his throat and gasping like he couldn't breathe. He got up quickly and grabbed Leon's arms, shaking him roughly.

" _Leon!_ " Leon's green eyes snapped open as he was pulled out of the nightmare. He took in deep breaths of air, the dark room coming into focus around him. His fingers were curled tightly in the sleeves of Simmon's dress shirt and he was drenched in a cold sweat. He sighed and let go of the man, falling back into the pillows and throwing his arm over his eyes.

"Fuck," Leon hissed, catching his breath. Nightmares had been a constant occurrence since that horrifying night in Raccoon City all those years ago, but he hadn't had one in several months. They always left him too alert and mentally shaken and exhausted. Of course, he'd never told anyone about them. Some were so bad he'd considered seeing a therapist, but chalked it up to post-traumatic stress disorder and left it at that.

"Nightmare?" Simmons asked as he fell back into his chair with a sigh. Leon gripped the blankets, pulling them more tightly around him. Like hell he'd tell Simmons. He watched the older man with a keen eye and couldn't help but wonder how long this love-hate relationship would go on for. It seemed Simmons only cared about him when he actually died or came close to it, which meant he depended on Leon's survival. He knew the reason was because of the information he held, but couldn't help thinking it was something else, too. If he played his cards right, he might be able to take advantage of it.

"Don't act like you care. As soon as I recover you're going to go back to torturing me again." Leon's words earned a smirk from the older man.

"You're right. I plan on it."

Leon sighed and shut his eyes. There was no point in talking, it just wasted his energy and pleased Simmons. He figured he may as well go back to sleep, even though he was still traumatized. He should appreciate his time without torture.

* * *

"Wakey wakey, _Leon._ It's time to resume our fun. Shall we?" Simmons stood by the door and gestured for him to come with a wave of his wrist. Leon groaned and tossed the sheets off, thankful that the older man at least gave him time to change back into his clothing. He followed quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor. What was in store for him now? Simmons had what, one, two days to think about it? Leon couldn't remember how long it had been, having lost track of time since he'd been brought back. How many days had he been here now? Thirteen? Fourteen? Fifteen? It felt like he was suspended in a place without any sense of time. The world might as well not have been spinning.

Simmons produced a key card and slid it through a card reader, the light on it turning green and the door unlocking. He pushed Leon inside, shutting and locking the door behind him.

" _Have fun."_ Simmons voice was cheerful, holding the tune of a man that knew he was going to win something easily. The room was dimly lit, the one of the two fluorescent bars overhead flickering occasionally while the other was completely burned out. There was a large, glass portion of one wall, similar to that of an interrogation room, the glass creating a reflection from the light and telling Leon it was only one-way visible. He narrowed his eyes, attempting to piece out the details across the room. He took a step forward and halted. Was that blood smeared on the wall and floor? He noticed a small bed, the white sheets torn and tattered and stained with the crimson liquid as well.

A low snarling noise had Leon going shock still. There was something in the room with him. His eyes darted across the room quickly. Every time he looked away from the darkness, it seemed like something was moving within it, but when he focused on it he couldn't see anything. He swallowed, his heart racing as he imagined all of the things that could be trapped in here with him. Perhaps if he didn't make a sound, the thing wouldn't notice him. Or maybe it was as scared of him as he was of it.

That wasn't the case as his eyes snapped to the center of the darkness where a figure was slowly coming into focus. A lone zombie stepped towards him slowly, saliva dripping from its mouth in long strings. The occasional flicker of the light made it look far more menacing, the light catching on its bloody teeth, revealing missing chunks of flesh on its face, arms and torso revealing the muscle and bone beneath. Leon backed up until his back was against the door. _Oh god_. He had no weapons, no obstacles to put between them, and no way to defeat it. Even at full strength and with no wounds he hardly stood a chance, but this was a slow and painful death.

The zombie growled low in its throat and ran for him. Leon quickly rolled to the side and ran to the opposite side of the room. This was a game of outlasting it, and with only one primal instinct, the zombie would surely win. It had an infinite amount of stamina and resolve, whereas Leon would eventually tire and lose what little strength he had. The zombie turned and ran at him again. How long would he last like this? As it neared, he spun quickly, aiming a kick at its head. The creature crashed to the tile floor with a thud and pushed itself up. _What the hell? What kind of zombie recovered from an attack so quickly?_ The zombie barely missed a beat before it was lunging at him again, slamming him against the wall. Leon held his arm across its chest, keeping its snapping teeth at a relatively safe distance from his neck. It flailed, clawing at him and raking its nails across the side of his face, sending a triple dose of stinging pain down his left eye and cheek. Leon hissed and pushed it back, partially blinded for the time being.

The zombie threw itself at him again, and Leon barely managed to dodge it by jumping to the side, its fingers narrowly missing him. He took several steps back, panting hard. He was already exhausted and it had been less than ten minutes. There was no doubt Simmons was watching the show through the glass. Leon turned and smashed his fist against it, creating a dull _thud_ and nothing more. It was clearly reinforced, and if the zombie couldn't break through it, neither could he. His attention was turned back to the monster in the room as it snarled at him furiously for having managed to live so long. His eyes flicked around the small space. Maybe he could trap it in the sheets somehow if he wrapped it up tight and hog tied it. But that would require him to pin it on its stomach for at least a minute, and he doubted he could manage half of that. It was worth a try, and as it ran at him he sidestepped, running over to the bed and pulling the sheets off. Leon's fingers became wet with warm blood, and he shuddered internally. Whoever it belonged to hadn't been dead for very long, and if he wasn't careful, it would be his blood painting the room.

Leon spun around and was tackled onto the bed by the zombie, his arms momentarily tangled in the sheets between them. It snarled and climbed up his body, inching closer to the porcelain skin of his neck. He struggled violently, using every ounce of his strength to try and shake the thing off, his legs kicking out uselessly. He freed his good arm, pushing his hand against its chest as it leaned down, its teeth grinding and snapping only inches from his face. He turned his head to the side, trying to put as much distance between him and the zombie as possible. He was shaking from both fear and adrenaline, the zombie slowly overpowering him and its bloody teeth getting closer and closer to him every second. He groaned in disgust as its saliva dripped onto his jaw, the warm, thick liquid slowly sliding down his neck.

Leon's groaned as its mouth came close enough to his neck that he could feel hot, rancid breath brushing over his skin. It's tongue flicked out of its mouth, running over the skin of his neck hungrily, tasting him.

"N-no…" Leon pleaded as the tips of its teeth grazed over his porcelain skin. _Oh, fuck. He was going to have a mental breakdown._ The smell, the fear, it was all too familiar as he relived his first night in Raccoon City. He could almost feel flames lapping at his skin and hear the carnage of hundreds of people screaming as they were eaten alive. His eyes were wide and crazy and the zombie finally overpowered him, its teeth sinking into his neck and making him let out a scream of pure agony. He struggled uselessly, but as the seconds ticked by it felt as it the zombie was becoming heavier and heavier. Leon shut his eyes tightly, tears running down his face as it bit him a second time, its tongue running over the bloody wounds. Was he going to become infected? He didn't know much about the C-Virus, had no idea how it was transmitted and how contagious it was. He hadn't seen anyone turn from a bite, had no idea if it was purely by blood on blood contact or only by a virus injection. His eyes fluttered and he could feel his blood running down his neck and staining the sheets with more crimson. Having to endure this was a living hell. Nothing else could shake him as badly as this did, with every bite another mental wall collapsing. He couldn't do this anymore. He wasn't strong enough.

"Simmons!" Leon let out a hoarse cry, his words wet with the blood in his mouth. He swallowed it back, his heart beating painfully in his chest. What if Simmons didn't need him anymore? What if he was lead here to his worst nightmare to die? Completely alone in this dark, decrepit room with his greatest fear? He let out a pained moan as the zombie bit into him again. Suddenly a bright light washed over him and he shut his eyes tightly. The weight of the zombie was removed and followed by a wet snapping noise. He sat up, standing before him now was Simmons.

Leon's eyes fluttered up to meet Simmons' own. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to just give him the data… he was having a moment of weakness and he knew it, but all the pain made him not care anymore. Clearly Simmons wanted it to cure himself, perhaps nothing more. He could save himself endless amounts of pain by just giving in.

"Alright," Leon panted softly, "I'll tell you." He kept his head bowed down, not wanting the other man to see the defeat in his eyes as he fought back tears. He couldn't do this anymore. He needed an end to the pain. Simmons placed his fingers under Leon's chin, tilting the agents head back and forcing him to look in his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek. It didn't matter that he was abandoning his mission anymore. He didn't care that everything might go to shit. He was just so _over_ the pain. He couldn't last a day longer. He threw himself into the older man's arms, his fingers curled tightly in the back of Simmons' shirt and his face pressed into his chest. Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly. Fuck, it hurt bad. His body. His mind. His ego. Everything he had been taught, everything he learned, every instinct and reason to fight for, every promise made, every friend and comrade lost, meant nothing now. His fight was over. His voice trembled as he spoke, his words quiet and slow.

"The cure for the C-Virus resides in a man named Jake Muller. His blood contains antibodies that can successfully combat and annihilate any traces of the virus in the host's body. The last time I saw him was in Lanshiang, with Sherry. She was escorting him. Please, don't hurt me anymore…" Leon trailed off and swallowed hard, unsure of the older man's intentions. Fingers under his chin had his head tilting back so he could look into Simmons' eyes, a smile on his lips.

"That wasn't so hard, was it? You could have saved yourself a lot of suffering, Leon. I will not hurt you unless you misbehave. You are to remain in this facility indefinitely." What? It was the first time he'd heard the man speak his name without a venomous tone. And what did he mean, "indefinitely"?

"I can't leave? Ever?" Leon asked as he looked up, shock on his face.

"No. You are still of importance to me, and if I let you go you will tell everyone what I've done." Derek ran his thumb along Leon's jaw before taking a firm hold of it, looking over his features. He leaned in, kissing Leon roughly and smirking against Leon's lips when the younger man didn't fight it. He pulled back, searching Leon's deep green eyes as they fluttered open, filled with an array of emotions.

"You will remain by my side forever."

* * *

Special thanks to Dd for reviewing the previous chapter and Guest for reviewing this chapter! Your support is very appreciated!


	10. Prisoner

"You can't do this! I told you what you wanted!" Leon pulled away, furious. He wasn't some pet. He covered the wounds on his neck with his shaky hand, his fingers becoming wet with blood as he glared up at the older man.

"Regardless, my statement still stands. Sasha will give you a full tour of the facility. Do not get any ideas, because I can still make your life a living hell, Leon." With that Simmons left, leaving a very furious Leon behind to brood. What gave him the right? There was no way Leon would stay here and assimilate to Simmons' ways. He would find a way to escape.

It wasn't long before Sasha came for him, leading him away from the horrid, dark room.

"You should let me look at your wounds."

"I'm fine." Leon brushed the blond's hand aside. There was no point in being sour, but he warranted to having a bad attitude because everything that had happened. He was probably going to go stir crazy in this place anyways.

"You can wander wherever you'd like except the armory and you can't go outside, for obvious reasons i.e. making stupid decisions and trying to escape." Leon chuckled at that. It sounded like him.

"And how exactly am I supposed to defend myself against my fan service?" Leon chimed. He didn't doubt that there were more soldiers that would love to take a swing at him, or worse.

"Don't worry. After the weekend mostly everyone will be deployed. You'll have the place practically to yourself."

Leon scoffed. To himself, including Sasha, Simmons, and armed guards at every entrance. How homey. As they walked, he noticed camera's in the halls and in the corners of every room. Simmons, or someone, was probably watching his every move. He made mental notes of everything as the blond showed him nearly the entire facility. It consisted of: a cafeteria, gym, armory, sleeping quarters, games room, laboratory, hospital wing, shooting range, convenience store, and garage.

"And where exactly are we? I assume somewhere in the States."

Sasha seemed to consider whether or not he could answer. Leon raised his hands in an "I'm innocent" gesture and added, "It's not like I could escape if I wanted to." Reassured, the blond spoke.

"We're in a remote and off-limits part of the Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge. About two hours out of Washington D.C."

Leon sighed internally. He was so close to home. No one would even look for him here; after all he was last seen in Lanshiang, China. Well, no one would be looking anyways because everyone believed him to be dead.

"Unfortunately, our time together will be cut short. Simmons needs me to do research on the C-Virus."

"Hmph. I wonder why."

"Well, you know where everything is. Stay out of trouble, alright?" Leon watched as the blond took his leave. Even though he'd been here for more than two weeks, the building still felt very alien. He hadn't seen much except for the rooms he was kept in or the one familiar twisting hallway. Now nothing was off-limits to him except for the armory and outdoors, which left a world of possibilities for the agent. His stomach growled and reminded him of the hunger that had been gnawing at his insides for the past day and decided to head to the cafeteria. The windows were dark, and he could faintly make out the silhouettes of trees outside. There were only a few stragglers about at this time, either getting a late night snack or dozing at one of the tables. Leon grabbed a plate and began loading it with a little bit of every dish. His internal clock was all screwed up and he was wide awake at the moment. It would probably take a couple days to get used to.

Leon sat at one of the tables and took a bite of the food, chewing slowly. What the hell was he saying? In a couple days he would (hopefully) be out of here. He swallowed and stared at the food. What exactly did he have to go back to? The odds of him getting sent back into the field were slim to none. He was probably going to be interrogated for several hours for killing the president alone, and then interrogated some more for (hopefully) killing the head of security. His friends and comrades were probably still fighting the outbreak of the C-Virus in China, if they were still alive. He took another bite of the food, not tasting the flavors. Some distant, annoying thought at the back of his mind said perhaps it wasn't so bad staying here. Aside from being on constant watch 24/7 and being Simmons personal playing, it wasn't that bad when he wasn't being constantly tortured. In a way it kind of reminded him of the police academy he attended when he was training to become a cop. He forced the rest of the food down and set the dirty dishes in the bin provided before taking a walk. He made a quick stop in one of the restrooms, washing the wounds on his neck and inspecting them in the mirror. There were three sets of teeth marks noticeable at the edges of each, the wounds red and inflamed. Leon found himself wishing he'd accepted Sasha's offer. The risk for infection was high from a zombie bite, especially one that had another person's blood already in its mouth. Last thing he needed was to have to spend time in the hospital wing.

The halls all seemed the same and it took Leon awhile before he got his bearings and remembered where he was. Unintentionally, he found himself heading towards the shooting range. He pushed his way inside and looked around, no one present except for the arms dealer who was leaning on the back two legs of his chair, feet up and eyes shut. The man was older, but had the look of a hardened marine or veteran. As Leon approached his eyes opened and he let out a small chuckle.

"Come to do some late night shooting?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

The man eyed him for a long moment before standing and producing a key, unlocking a gun cabinet and reaching inside. He turned back to Leon, setting a Desert Eagle Mark XIX on the counter between them along with a box of 100 rounds of ammunition and a couple target sheets.

"Standard shooting range rules apply, assuming you're no novice. Also, doors locked so don't try and run out on me, yeah?"

Figures. Run once and everyone treats you like some sort of convict. Leon grabbed the things and walked to the farthest stall, setting them on the small counter and pressing the call button. He hooked up one of the targets before sending it back, a standard black silhouette of a man with two rings of targets, one on the chest and one on the head. Each had several smaller circles within them, the center of both rings marked with an x that wasn't more than an inch around.

Leon grabbed the pistol, admiring it as he ejected the empty clip. The metal had a shiny chrome finish, accented by a rich, dark chocolate oak grip and equipped with basic iron sights. It was a nice gun, but more powerful than he neither liked nor was used to. Having such strong kick on a weapon was inefficient as it would quickly make your wrists and shoulders ache, and wasn't ideal for long-term use, especially out in the field. He took his time, enjoying the familiarity of keeping his hands busy with the weapon. He would have enjoyed disassembling, cleaning and reassembling it, but that was for another time. He set the gun down and opened the ammunition box, grabbing a few bullets and pushing them into the clip. Once full, he pushed the clip back into the weapon and cocked it, then flicked off the safety.

Arms before him, bent slightly at the elbows, Leon aimed the pistol, holding it in his right hand. The weapon shook in his hold, not much but enough that he noticed it and it would affect his aim. He'd been trembling slightly since he was attacked by the zombie. Although he was relaxed, he was still shaken by the traumatic event. It would probably take a couple days to get over and hopefully no longer. He braced his grip with his other hand, his fingers aching as he attempted to curl them. Instead, he opted for resting his right arm on his left, in a tactical position. It helped reduce the shakiness a bit and he took a deep breath, focusing on the "x" marked in the center of the silhouette's head. He could hear the sound of the door opening and slow, calculated footsteps approaching, stopping somewhere behind him. He knew exactly who it was without looking, keeping his focus on the target 75 feet ahead of him. He fired, the bullet piercing the very edge of the silhouette's head.

"Damnit," Leon hissed angrily, lowering the weapon. He'd been a sharpshooter for a fair amount of his life, a master at using a variety of pistols. He could get a headshot without trying and hitting the center of the target should have been an easy task. He cursed internally at himself, angry at both having missed, and having his enemy witnessing it. If it was Simmons he was shooting at, he probably wouldn't have missed. He didn't move as the older man's pressed up against him from behind, reaching around and covering Leon's hand with his own. Leon didn't move, allowing Simmons to make him raise the weapon. He could feel Simmons' hot breath caressing his ear, sending uncomfortable shivers down his spine. Simmons free hand slid down his side, gripping his waist and pulling their bodies flush together. Leon looked at Simmons over his shoulder, the older man smirking back and him before looking back down the range. Leon did the same, his hand held steady by Simmons firm grip. He pulled the trigger several times, firing the remaining 11 bullets into the target without hesitating. His hand was released and to his dismay, there was a large hole in the space where the "x" had been. Every shot hit right on mark.

Suddenly Leon was spun around and hot lips were pressed against his own. His eyes widened in shock and he hesitated, unsure of what to do. His fingers curled around the hilt of the gun tightly, hard enough to make his knuckles turn white. It would be so easy to kill Simmons, right here, right now. The world would be such a better place without his existence. As the older man's lips pressed more roughly, more hungrily against his own, his body pushing Leon up onto the counter and slipping between his thighs, he found himself unable to raise the weapon against Simmons. Killing Simmons would mean a certain death for him, and he still planned on escaping with his life. His moment would come, but not yet. He released the weapon, instead wrapping his arm around Simmons' shoulders and running his fingers into the back of his thick brown hair. There was no point in fighting it, he would only waste his energy and Simmons would overpower him anyway. He'd never admit it openly, but it was nice feeling pleasure for once. After so many days filled with agonizing pain, it was comforting and relieving being able to indulge himself. He still hated Simmons with every fibre of his being, but that hate was accented with both need and more confusing underlying emotions.

Leon finally returned the kiss, fighting against the older man for dominance. A strong hand went up to grip his jaw with enough force to make his mouth part, allowing Simmons tongue into his mouth. Leon moaned as Simmons tongue ran over his own, flicking it playfully before running up and down, ravishing it. His mouth was filled with Simmons taste, of coffee and the smokiness of cigarettes. It wasn't bad at all and Leon found himself wanting more, his fingers moving down and curling in Simmons' dress shirt. When the older man finally broke the kiss, Leon's eyes fluttered open, emerald green staring into chocolate brown. He was panting softly and had to look away, embarrassed to be sharing such an intimate act with his enemy. His heart was racing and he willed it to stop, exasperated. Fuck, what was happening to him? He should be going down kicking and screaming, unwillingly and with a fight.

Simmons smirked and leaned into him, the smell of expensive cologne surrounding him and assaulting his nose. The older man's tongue ran over the exposed flesh of Leon's collarbone, making him moan softly before sliding higher. It slid over the wounds on his neck and a bolt of fear shot through Leon, making him shove Simmons in the chest hard enough to make him stumble back a step and break their connection. His breaths were unsteady, shattered by the trembling of his body and small noises that escaped his lips. He jumped down, quickly trying to get past the man but a strong grip on his wrist kept him from running. He was pushed against the stall wall, his eyes focused on anything but the man before him.

"Leon, look at me." When he didn't comply, he felt a firm hand under his chin, tilting his head back and forcing him to look at Simmons. The older man leaned in again, kissing Leon almost tenderly. He let his eyes fall shut, kissing Simmons back, the earlier flame rekindled between them. Leon's lips parted as the kiss broke and he gazed up into Simmon's eyes.

"What's happening to me?" Leon asked softly.

"Everything that's supposed to."


	11. Escape

Simmons' words didn't answer his question at all, but he didn't have time to think about it. Simmons took his hand, quickly dragging him through the hallways back to the bedroom. He threw Leon onto the bed, eliciting a surprised moan from the younger man before covering Leon's body with his own. Leon gasped as Simmons' hand brushed over his clothed cock, creating a small amount of delicious friction that had him biting his lip. Was he really going to go all the way with the man? He'd done it once already, but the circumstances had been very different and now it was entirely of his own accord. He could say no if he wanted, but really he didn't want to and it's not like Simmons would take no for an answer anyway. _Fuck it._

Simmons kissed him again, hard, and he felt the buttons of his shirt being undone. Skilled hands ran over his muscled stomach and chest and Leon moaned into the older man's mouth. Simmons pulled away and Leon moaned again as the older man's tongue ran down the center of his chest, over his navel, and down the treasure trail of short hairs leading below his waistband. His pants were unbuttoned and quickly removed along with his boxers and shoes. Leon blushed slightly and looked away as Simmons' eyes slowly ran over his body, taking in every inch of him.

A firm grip on his cock had Leon letting out a gasp and leaning forward slightly to see the older man stroking him. Simmons' eyes shined playfully and if Leon didn't know any better he'd think the man was teasing him. He was surprised to be receiving any pleasure at all, but enjoyed it nonetheless. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes, his fingers curling in the sheets as the older man worked him slowly. His cock was painfully hard and dripping with pre-cum, and oh fuck, he needed to find release. He didn't care that he was about to let his mortal enemy fuck his brains out, or that he was acting like a victim with Stockholm syndrome. He needed Simmons' inside him and both of them knew it.

"Say it," Simmons' voice was deep, husky, and full of want as he looked down at Leon.

"Fuck me."

Simmons tossed his suit jacket aside before unzipping his slacks and pulling out his cock. Leon hardly had a moment to admire it before Simmons was spreading his legs, thighs pushed tight against his chest and cock rubbing against his ass. Leon bit his lip as he watched the older man, who was teasing him slightly before sliding inside with one long, hard thrust. Leon let his head hit the pillow, a hot moan falling from his lips as he felt Simmons fill him. Fuck, it felt so good.

Simmons picked up a fast pace from the get go, pounding into Leon without mercy. The agent let out a cacophony of delicious cries and moans, only fueling his desire further. His fingers dug into Simmons' shoulders hard as he pushed back against the older man, the sound of skin on skin contact echoing throughout the room.

Leon's eyes fluttered open, the emerald depths burning with a newfound desire as he gazed at the man above him. In this moment, all of the pain, the suffering, the misery and consequences and hatred was forgotten and replaced with pure, unrestrained carnal need. There was no struggle, no fighting, no crying or begging for mercy or screaming. Something had changed, something unexplainable. How do you describe enduring extreme torture and being raped by someone, held against your will for the rest of your life, but being able to not quite forgive them, but to just _accept it? Allow it? Condone it?_ A relationship that was not only toxic but dangerous as well. It was confusing to say the least, but Leon didn't care in this moment. It was finally his chance to take, and take he would.

Derek's eyes widened in surprise as Leon flipped them over so he was sitting on his waist and leaned down, kissing him hard. Derek reciprocated and they fought for dominance, their tongues dancing between their mouths. Leon let out a muffled moan, one of need and pleasure that sent shivers straight to Derek's cock. Not only was Leon allowing their connection, but he was _enjoying it._ Derek's nemesis, the one person he spent many hours fantasizing about hurting, about killing, here in his bed with him and loving it. Their entire situation had quickly spun out of control. Initially he planned to just kill Leon as soon as the agent gave up the information he needed, but then decided against it. A lifetime of being a toy to Derek had sounded more and more enticing as the days went by. And now? Was Leon even that? He had been treating the agent more like an ally, if anything. _An equal._

Leon let out a high pitched moan as he leaned back, the angle allowing Derek's cock to hit that amazing place inside of him. Derek smirked up at the agent. Leon was such a slut, but he fucking loved it. He grabbed Leon's wrists and began driving up into him, holding him in place and forcing him to endure the assault of pleasure. Leon was making noises Derek couldn't even fucking _dream_ of. And _he_ was the one causing them.

"Fuck… can't take much more…" Leon was breathing hard, his skin hot and wet, muscles hard and pulled taught, hair ruffled and messy, eyes half lidded and burning with lust, lips parted ever so slightly, every breath a gasp for air...

"Ahhh!" Leon threw his head back as he came, coating his cock and thighs with his seed. Derek smirked, giving a last few thrusts before he finished inside the younger man, shooting his hot, sticky cum deep inside him. Both men were still for a few moments before Leon let out an exhausted sigh and collapsed beside Derek, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Leon fought the urge to sleep, his eyes falling on Simmons, who was watching him with a look he couldn't quite place. Perhaps something between contentment and curiosity. He was still getting accustomed to the idea that the man might not hate him completely anymore, which was good for him. It meant his chances of escaping were increasing. But if he didn't do it soon, he wasn't sure if he would have the will to. The idea of remaining here was becoming increasingly tempting. No matter what their growing connection may be, Leon still knew with every fibre of his being that he would have to kill Simmons. The fate of the world depended on it. He needed to speak with Sasha, and soon.

Simmons stood and adjusted his clothing, trying to rub out the creases as best he could.

"You'll have to excuse me for now. I have a very important meeting to attend."

"Yeah, alright." Leon pulled the blanket over himself, keeping his back to the door until he heard it shut and Simmons' footsteps fade altogether before allowing himself to fall asleep.

When Leon awoke he quickly showered, not taking the time to relish the hot water on his skin. He grabbed one of the white towels and dried off before dressing and ran his hand over the mirror to clear the precipitation that had accumulated from the hot steam. He stared at his reflection, letting his eyes run over his own form. He tilted his head and pulled down his collar, trying to get a better view of the bite marks that resided on the skin between his neck and shoulder.

"The fuck?"

Leon touched two fingers to the wounds. They were red and inflamed, showing obvious signs of infection. Red lines ran from the bite marks in jagged patterns. He blinked his vision clear in the hopes of his mind playing tricks on him, but the marks remained. He traced one with his fingers, which led all the way down the inside of his left arm. How had he not noticed it before? Leon narrowed his eyes, focusing on the patterns. Was he just seeing things, or were they slowly getting worse? He curled his fingers into a fist, tensing the muscles of his forearm. The skin split along the patterns and the bone in his arm shifted.

Leon shut his eyes tightly. What was happening to him? He didn't want to dare another look, but when he opened his eyes, the skin on his arm was knit back together as if nothing happened. Could this be a side effect of the zombie bites? He took a step back and slid down the wall until he was sitting, trying to concentrate on the small amount of information he knew about the C-Virus.

People that willingly infected themselves had regenerative abilities that allowed them to regrow entire limbs or heal wounds. Infectees would usually become hostile and speak in tongues. Some Infectees would mutate into horrific aberrations that lacked almost no resemblance to their former human selves. But every scenario Leon could think of involved people becoming infected while they were critically or fatally injured. All except one.

 _Derek._

When Leon saw Simmons get injected with the C-Virus, it didn't seem to affect him outright initially. But the ability to metamorphosis into a b.o.w and back was a trait solely unique to him.

 _'_ _Oh, fuck. What if it was Simmons that infected me and not the zombie?'_

Typically the viruses were spread via blood on blood transmission, a bite from infected saliva, or injection.

 _'_ _That doesn't add up... He never bit me, nor did his blood come in contact with mine. And the only thing he's injected me with is pharmaceutical drugs.'_

Leon shook his head. The only way he would get answers would be to confide in the older man, and there was no way in hell he was doing that. If Simmons found out Leon changing like him, he'd probably be subjected to dozens of excruciating and embarrassing tests. No way. He would rather be a toy than a science experiment. At least this way his flesh would remain intact. He exited the bathroom and slid his hands between the mattresses and withdrew the hidden pistols. Both clips were full, giving him a total of twenty-four bullets.

 _More than enough._

The halls of the building were derelict, which gave Leon high hopes. It would make escaping a ton easier. He took a quick pace, his emotions falling somewhere between excited and desperate as he made his way to the room he'd been tortured in. By some miracle his personal affects still resided on the table. He scooped them up, slipping the piece into his ear and the phone and wallet in his pocket. If he did make it out, would he ever see his friends and comrades again? Did they truly believe he was dead? Did they even survive China? He pushed the nagging thoughts aside. He would need a clear mind.

"Leon." The sound of his name had the agent turning. Sasha was approaching him from thehallway. Leon ran up to him and grabbed his wrist urgently.

"We have to go. _Now._ "

"Right now? But-"

Leon pulled Sasha behind him, not giving the man a choice. The blond sighed.

"This way. We can leave through the exit by the parking lot."

Sasha took the lead, Leon following close behind. He held the pistols tightly, safety off in case he would have to use them. He was unsure about his shooting ability, but from a reasonable distance he didn't doubt he could get a few critical shots in.

A lone guard stood by the door. At the sight of the two hurried men he made an attempt to speak into the mic on his helmet, but Sasha drew his own pistol and quickly dispatched of him with a single bullet to the head. The corpse fell to the floor as they pushed through the door, outside into the cold, barren world. The sky was a bright grey, hiding the sun behind the winter overcast. They ran together, stopping at the parking lot.

"We don't have much time. Which one is yours?" Leon asked, looking at all the vehicles.

Sasha pointed to a sleek black motorcycle nearby and Leon hopped on, backing it out of the space and kick starting it. The bike roared to life, the engine rumbling softly. Leon held his hand out to Sasha, who seemed hesitant to take it.

"Come on! If you stay he is going to kill you!"

Sasha took Leon's hand and swung his leg over the bike. Leon revved it once before switching gears and taking off down the driveway.

"Sir, the captive has escaped with the aid of one of our men."

Simmons stood abruptly, his skin trembling as he transformed. Leon _still dared defy him?_ After everything, the agent still held the idea of escape in his mind. Simmons broke into a run, his claws scraping the tile floor. He busted through the front door, saliva dripping from his jaws.

 _This time he'd fucking rip Leon apart._

Leon produced his phone, checking it quickly and letting out a sigh of relief. Somehow there was still enough battery remaining to place a call. He passed it back to Sasha.

"I need you to call someone for me!" He shouted back to the blond over the sound of the rushing wind. He recited the number he knew by memory, his heart racing with anxiety. There was no doubt that Simmons knew they were gone by now and would be taking chase. Their chances of survival were zero unless his contact answered the phone.

"Redfield." The familiar gruff voice of the BSAA Captain had Leon letting out a relieved sigh. Chris was still alive.

"Chris! I need to call in a favor!" Leon shouted over the wind.

"Leon?! You're alive?!" Chris' tone was nothing short of shocked.

"Yeah! I'll explain later! Look, I'm turning the gps on my phone," Leon looked over his shoulder and Sasha nodded, "how long will it take you to get someone here? I need a chopper with big guns!"

Chris was silent for several moments.

"ETA is twenty minutes. You lucked out, Leon. I'm at an airbase in D.C. We'll be approaching from the north-east."

"Alright!"

"And Leon? Stay alive."

The call ended and Leon looked at the digital clock on the bike. They would have to outrun Simmons somehow. He pulled the throttle back more, not taking any chances.

"Uh, Leon? We have company!"

Leon looked back to see Simmons several hundred feet behind them and gaining. They wouldn't have enough time. He'd catch up soon and slaughter them…

"I need you to shoot him Sasha! Aim for his face and exposed flesh!"

Sasha drew his pistol, holding onto Leon's waist with one arm as he aimed back. The road curved, not allowing him a good shot. When it straightened, Simmons had considerably shortened the space between them. He fired, taking only sure shots. He aimed for the left front leg, hoping to stagger the monstrosity. The bullets tore into the exposed flesh and muscle, weakening the limb enough to make him run with a limp.

"Leon! I'm out!" Sasha tossed the gun aside and Leon handed him another. Simmons took his chance, speeding up and letting out an inhuman snarl. The weapon on his back began spinning before firing a barrage of long bone needles.

"Look out!"

Leon swerved the bike back and forth in a serpentine pattern, narrowly avoiding the dozens of needles. He still remembered how it felt to be pierced by the six inch bolts. Sasha fired at mutated Simmons again, doing enough damage to temporarily take out one leg. He staggered and slowed, stopping as he waited for the wound to heal.

They let out sighs of relief. They managed to hold Simmons off barely for now, but when his wounds were healed he would be coming at them with renewed hatred.

Their relief was short lived as the monstrosity came into view again, quickly approaching. Simmons was using the full extent of his power. Leon was driving as fast as he safely could without losing control of the bike. Simmons would be on them in a matter of moments. He let out a vicious snarl, firing more of the bone spikes. From such a close distance it was near impossible to avoid them all; Sasha were cried out in pain as he was impaled several times.

Suddenly the air whipped in two directions and the sound of the chopper's blades whirred overhead along with the fire of machine guns. It kept pace with them and a ladder was dropped down.

"Go!" Leon called out to Sasha, who took it and lifted himself off the bike, climbing to safety.

"Come on Leon! Now's your chance!" Chris shouted down at him. Leon shook his head.

"Chris, I need an RPG! I have a plan." Leon took a deep breath and pulled the throttle all the way back. He had to get a good distance ahead of Simmons, which was easier to do now that he had suppressing fire. Once he had a good several hundred feet, he slammed on the breaks, twisting the bike so when it came to a rest he was facing the direction Simmons would be coming.

"Leon!" Chris dropped down the RPG and Leon caught it, resting it on his shoulder and looking down the sights. He watched as Simmons approached, his sights still on Leon. His finger hovered over the trigger, but he didn't fire. He had to be sure it was a lethal shot.

"Leon, what are you doing! It's suicide!"

Leon ignored Chris. It was now or never.

"Leeeeeeonnnn!" Simmons snarled and Leon pulled the trigger as Simmon's jumped at him. The RPG fired, hitting Simmons nearly point blank and exploding in a cloud of fire and smoke.

"Leon!" Chris and Sasha shouted the agent's name. They couldn't see the agent through the impact.

Leon's eyes fluttered. He could feel something very hot caressing his skin and something wet tricking down his arms. His lungs burned from the heat and smoke. Had he killed Simmons? The debris settled and lying before him was a large pile of flesh and bone.

Leon suddenly didn't have the strength to stand anymore. The launcher fell from his hands and clattered to the road. He lost his balance, falling sideways and hitting the pavement unconscious.

* * *

Thanks to Silvia . Ho .714 for the lovely review who this chapter is dedicated to.


	12. Agony

"Leon!" Chris screamed as he watched the agent become consumed by the smoke and heat of the explosion. His eyes searched frantically as the debris began to clear, looking for any sign of him. Sasha tensed, on his knees beside Chris, fingers gripping the metal of the helicopter floor with white-knuckled intensity. Once the smoke dissipated Chris saw the agent's unconscious body lying on the tarmac, unmoving.

"Put us down!" Chris yelled to the pilot, fidgeting with his gun as the helicopter descended. As it neared the ground he jumped out and ran to Leon's side, rolling him onto his back and assessing the damage.

Leon was in a questionable condition. His entire left arm was caked in wet blood that had soaked through the fabric of his shirt, staining it a dark, off colored crimson. Chris could already see some of the healing wounds from Leon's obvious torture. Sasha ran over as the helicopter landed and helped Chris load Leon into the helicopter. As they ascended Chris took one final look at the mess of flesh and bone that had once been Derek Simmons.

It was only a ten minute trip to the nearest hospital, but every minute felt like hours. As Chris stared down at Leon's mangled body, he couldn't help but wonder how the younger male had held out for so long. The most concerning thing was the two jagged, infected looking bite marks on the left side of Leon's neck. Had he been bitten by a virus carrier? And if so, how could he have possibly gone this long without turning? Chris tightened the hold on his gun, hating the churning feeling in his gut. He felt like he was betraying the man, but he would much rather be safe than sorry.

The helicopter landed and two medical attendants were waiting, a gurney ready. They lifted Leon onto it and pushed it inside the hospital quickly, Chris and Sasha in tow. It must have been less than twenty seconds and they were already in an isolated room, hooking the agent up to an intravenous for a blood transfusion. A doctor ran in, his white lab coat swaying behind him, as well as a nurse dressed in typical green scrubs.

"I'm going to need to you wait outside please. We can't risk any contamination, especially in his state."

Chris and Sasha were ushered out of the room. They sat across from each other in the waiting room, both agitated and anxious.

"You may come in now. He's stable but still unconscious."

It had been just under four hours since they arrived at the hospital. Sasha let out a sigh of relief. He and Chris had barely talked, except for explaining the details of Leon's capture and torture. He'd had the spikes removed from his flesh and been bandaged up while they were waiting. The two men followed the nurse back into the room, everything quiet except the sound of their footsteps and the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor.

"The damage is quite... extensive."

The doctor's abrupt words pulled both Chris and Sasha's attention away from the unconscious agent. He was holding a clipboard with several stapled papers attached, flipping through them quickly and skimming the contents, as doctors do.

"Over one dozen lacerations and puncture wounds over the arms, legs, and thighs caused by a knife or other object with a sharp edge. Faint bruising around the edges of the lips, caused by a gag. Chaffing on the wrists, most likely caused by rope. Second molars on both the left and right side of the jaw forcibly removed. Malnourished and underweight. Two fractured true ribs punctured into the left lung as well as slight traces of water in the lungs, possibly from potential drowning. Extreme caustic burns on the left hand and wrist, as well as four broken fingers snapped at the metacarpus. Fractures to the radius and ulna of the right arm. Two first degree burns on the forearms. Cardiac arrhythmia offset by extreme stress to the heart. Two identical bite wounds, shape suggests from a human mouth…" The doctor trailed off.

"What? What is it?" Chris insisted nervously.

"There are remnants of a drug known as flunitrazepam in his blood. As well as tearing and bruising of the anal crevice and large amounts of semen. He was raped, and more than once."

Chris glared at Sasha, who couldn't seem to meet the brunet's gaze. He left _that_ part of the story out, obviously.

The doctor walked to the side of the bed and set the chart down, inspecting Leon closely. The skin around his eyes was dark, almost bruised looking. He peeled one eye back and then the other, the whites of his eyes filled with too many bloody veins. Then he tilted Leon's head, fully exposing the bite marks on his neck. Long, jagged red veins travelled from it down Leon's left arm, sometimes interlocking in an un-repetitive pattern.

"To be honest with you I'm not quite sure what to make of this."

Leon could hear the sounds of words being spoken, yet couldn't quite make them out enough to understand what was being said. He felt distant. He was only half conscious and didn't even have the strength to open his eyes yet, but he was acutely aware of the pain. Fuck, there was a lot of it. It seemed almost every inch of him inside and out throbbed, stung, burned or ached. He needed some morphine in him and _soon_. He mustered all the strength he could and managed to peel open his eyes.

The regret was instant as his vision was flooded with white, his pupils dilating to try and adjust.

"Leon."

A firm grip on his good hand assured him he really wasn't alone. His vision cleared and both Chris and Sasha came into view. It had been Chris who had squeezed his hand.

"Hey." Leon swallowed and gritted his teeth through the pain. It felt like his tongue was made of sandpaper. When was the last time he had something to drink? He couldn't remember.

"Leon, can I talk to you for a minute?" Chris asked. Both Sasha and the doctor took their leave, and the air was filled with a tense awkwardness that was almost palpable. Leon managed to get into a sitting position, his eyes downcast. Chris sat on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder at the agent. Both men spoke at the same time.

"How are you feeling?" "Is he dead?"

Chris gave a curt nod.

"Yeah, he's dead."

Leon let out a sigh of relief, although inside he'd felt conflicted. The relationship he had with Simmons had been far from healthy, but it was also the first time he had felt anything _real_ in years. He'd gotten used to living in the facility, and his life had been somewhat normal. He just decided to chalk it up to a nasty case of Stockholm syndrome. Besides, Chris had saved his life, so he owed the brunet answers to his questions.

"I hurt like hell."

"Leon, what did he do to you?"

Leon bit his lip. He could talk to Chris for hours about what had happened. He felt the words resting on the tip of his tongue, yet he couldn't speak them. He and Chris had never been particularly close, only knowing one another through Chris' sister, Claire, and meeting up from time to time on the battlefield. Besides, if he did tell Chris, he could never hope for the brunet to understand what he had been through. At least, not fully.

It was several long moments before Leon finally spoke.

"He tortured me, Chris."

He'd meant the words to be the blunt truth but they came out as a half-whisper. Perhaps because he hadn't yet fully accepted what had happened to him over the past two and a half weeks. His time in containment had been short, but the pain had stretched out over an eternity.

"I'm sorry. But I can't tell you what you want to hear."

Chris pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Alright. I won't push. But just know I'm always able to listen."

The brunet stood, and Leon could feel his eyes on him for a long moment until he left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

After two days of crummy hospital food, seven blood tests, and more meds than he could count, Leon was finally released to go home. He'd wanted to call a taxi, but Chris persisted he give Leon a ride to his apartment, which was just over 200 miles away. Leon rested his chin on his hand as he stared out the window, watching the scenery fly past as Chris sped down the highway. Thankfully, due to copious amounts of drugs, majority of the pain he had been inflicted was numbed, and the damage that had been caused would leave only a few scars. He'd gotten extremely lucky; while the bite to his neck hadn't healed so far, he had been released after consenting to multiple check-ups in the near future to keep an eye on his health.

"How you holding up?" Chris' gruff voice broke the silence. Leon scoffed and turned his gaze to the brunet man, who was looking back at him, concern on his face.

"I'll survive." Leon's answer was blunt but true. He'd been given a month of furlough, and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. So much time would leave him with his thoughts far too often. At least if he was working he could distract himself for several hours out of the day.

"Claire's been asking about you like crazy. She was really worried. She wanted me to bring you a cake she made."

Leon's lips twisted in the faintest of smiles. It had been years since he'd seen Claire, their last encounter having been after the capture of Frederic Downing, the Wil Pharma big-wig that wanted to sell the G-Virus to terrorists on the black market.

"How is she?" Leon asked softly, returning his gaze to the window.

"Stubborn as ever. Insists on riding the world of the viruses. Think we rubbed off on her too much."

Leon pressed his lips together. Claire better had be careful, or she could get herself into as much trouble as he did.

It felt strange being home. Leon hadn't been home since before what happened in China and D.C. It felt like a foreign place after spending so much time at the facility. Chris followed Leon inside and stood awkwardly at the door.

"I'd offer you a beer or food or something but there's nothing here."

"That's alright. I gotta head out anyway."

"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate it."

"It's the least I could do. Don't be a stranger, okay?" Chris pulled Leon into a strong embrace, surprisingly the agent. Although they weren't close Chris had felt the need to reassure Leon through touch. Leon didn't voice his thoughts, but the gesture was nice.

Chris took his leave and Leon shut the door behind him. For the first time in... well, he wasn't sure how long, he was alone. He made his way into the bedroom, pulled out a clean pair of clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. He didn't dare a look at himself in the mirror until after a long, hot shower.

Leon stripped down and turned the water on too hot, stepping under the spray that made his skin turn an angry shade of pink. The water plastered his hair to his face and he watched the droplets of water fall from his bangs as he hung his head, vision focusing in and out. Was he crying? He wiped his eyes with his hand and stepped out, drying off and slipping into a white dress shirt and black slacks.

Leon collapsed onto his bed, slipping his arms under the pillow. He planned on sleeping for the next day or two. His eyes flicked to the window, moonlight pouring into the room in bright beams, the wind ruffling the drapes. He hadn't opened the window, had he? He stood and approached it, looking down at the quiet city below, his eyes noticing a set of claw marks on the windowsill.

"What the-?"

A thump behind him had Leon turning, just in time to have a set of clawed, bone fingers wrap around his neck tightly and lift him into the air. He gasped for air he wasn't granted, kicking uselessly as his wide eyes stared down into the cold, brown ones glaring back at him.

"Hello, _Leon._ "

Derek Simmons stood across from his canvas, a masterpiece waiting to be unfolded. He folded his arms behind his back as his eyes slowly ran over every inch of the man hanging before him, suspended from the ceiling, arms spread and hanging just inches above the ground. He held back his anger; how _dare_ Leon try and escape him. He'd given the ignorant man a chance, a _place_ by his side, and he _ruined_ it. Now Leon would truly suffer, but this time it would be much slower, longer, and ten times more painful. This time, there would be no escape.

Leon's eyes fluttered open slowly, his vision coming into focus revealing white tile beneath him. His senses fired up, one by one, and a failed attempt at moving brought him to the realization that he was strung up. He turned his head, looking at his arms shackled to two chains to the ceiling, and tested them. The metal was rough and firm, tearing at his wrists, and while his swung lightly, the bonds did not give. Suddenly, he became aware of the presence standing across from him, almost eye level, adorned in a white, unblemished suit, eyes burning with hatred. Leon's own eyes widened and he shook his head, unable to hide his grief, lip trembling slightly. The agony poured out in one single word as he realized he was back in the hands of his captor, and knew this time, there would be no mercy.

"No."


	13. Hell

"I've missed you, _Leon_." Simmons snarled, walking up to the bound man, staring into his eyes. He was so infuriated with Leon. They could have had something better than this, but Leon had to run away from him. Leon would have no chance of mercy this time. He withdrew the knife from behind his back. It was simple; a five inch steel blade with a narrow point. He was going to start simple.

Leon flinched as Simmons pulled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and drew back as the knife was brought closer to his skin.

"No."

Simmons ignored Leon, pressing the tip of the blade into the center of Leon's wrist. The agent struggled uselessly, only managing to irritate Simmons more. He began sliding the knife slowly up the length of Leon's arm, the blade easily breaking the skin and creating a thin, red line behind it. Leon cried out and shook his head, gasping in pain. Simmons made sure to take his time. The slower he went, the more pain Leon would endure. He stopped at Leon's inner elbow and repeated the process on his other arm. Blood had quickly swelled to the surface of the wounds and was sliding down his arms in multiple rivers, dripping onto the white tile floor and creating a growing pool of crimson.

Leon gritted his teeth, feeling the warm blood slide over his skin. Simmons watched, eyes glinting. The wounds weren't fatal, but Leon would lose a fair amount of blood from them and be weak for the next day or so. He wouldn't indulge himself for too long; his men were waiting eagerly for their turns with Leon, however they chose to take them.

Leon hung there for hours, eyes unfocused, watching his blood drip onto the floor. His eyes fluttered and he let out a pained breath, flexing his fingers as best he could. His hands felt like pins and needles from supporting his weight for so long, and the pain from the wounds on his arms had turned into a warm numbness. The blood had dried and was caked to his skin. Leon was both mentally and physically exhausted. He hadn't even had time to really recover from his previous abuse, and here he was right back in Simmons' grasp.

Leon was torn from his haze as the door swung open and in walked said tyrant, looking cocky as ever. Leon rolled his eyes.

"Enjoying yourself?" Derek asked, his lips twisting into a snarl as he leaned in close to Leon's ear. Leon brought his head forward, connecting with Derek's, a loud crack echoing around them, Derek stumbled back in both pain and surprise, his eyes burning with rage.

"Prick." Leon spat at him. Derek raised his hand and snapped his fingers, two of his goons walking into the room.

"I promised all of my men a turn with you. They have the freedom to do anything but kill you… completely. Have fun."

Simmons cut the restraints holding Leon suspended in the air and he fell to his hands and knees on the floor. He lifted his head to see Simmons stepping back as the two men approached. Leon pushed himself to his feet only to receive a strong jab in the stomach that sent him staggering back. The blow was instantly followed by several others, and Leon gasped in pain as he tried to take up a less than effective defensive stance. Any hit he managed to block just caused his arms to throb in pain, the wounds reopening.

The soldier spun and kicked Leon in the ribs hard enough to send him crashing into the wall. He cried out and was thrown to the floor, his arms pinned above his head. Leon struggled uselessly, accomplishing nothing but tearing at his reopened wounds. More small rivers of blood slid down his arms and over the tile under him. His vision blurred for a moment, eyes dilating as a sudden rush of exhaustion over took him.

For a few moments Leon couldn't comprehend what was happening to him as the second soldier straddled Leon's waist and pulled his shirt open, dragging his fingers down the agents chest. Leon writhed, watching in horror as narrow fingers made quick work of his belt. It was pulled free and he was flipped onto his stomach, the sound of experimental cracks echoing behind him.

"Augh!"

The first lash from the leather belt hit just under his right shoulder blade and had Leon crying out in pain. He had no doubt that the man was holding back as he received a second, third and fourth lash. His body convulsed and flinched with every ministration. Leon gritted his teeth, his skin stinging and burning hot to the touch.

After several more lashes they finally subsided. Leon was gasping hard, his senses overwhelmed by the pain and blood loss. His pants were pulled off and he was flipped back onto his back, pinned and helpless. His eyes fell on the burning, hungry look the second soldier was giving him before falling to his exposed, hard cock.

"No, don't."

Leon shook his head as his knees were forced against his chest. He clenched his fists, struggling as hard as he could to try and escape as he felt the wet hardness press against his ass.

"Fucking stop!" Leon seethed weakly, saliva falling from his lips. He couldn't believe this was happening. Simmons had killed the last two men that had laid fingers on him, and now he was going to sit idly by and watch? If Simmons decided it was okay to share him with whomever, he was really screwed.

Leon threw his head back as the soldiers cock was forced into his ass, sliding all the way to the hilt in one quick movement. His teeth were grit so hard he thought they might chip. His ass clenched painfully around the cock inside it, causing the soldier to let out a low moan and begin thrusting. His grip on Leon's thighs was bruising, the skin red and irritated. Their bodies slid together and Leon stared at the roof, letting his eyes unfocus as he stopped his struggling, his muscles going limp. He had no way out of the situation and no one to save him.

Once the first soldier was sure Leon had stopped struggling, he stood and took his leave but was quickly replaced with another, cock already hard as he produced it and shoved it into Leon's mouth. Leon let out a muffled groan as the cock was pushed to the back of his throat and held there, making his eyes water. He gagged and shut his eyes tightly, a stray tear sliding down his face before the appendage was removed and he coughed, gasping for air. The cock was quickly replaced, thrusting in and out of his mouth fast. He could feel the labored thrusts and breaths of the soldier fucking him and had little warning before hot cum exploded inside of him. The soldiers cock was removed and quickly replaced with another, much longer one that hit all of the right places. He could feel the cum get fucked deep inside his ass, working like a lubricant.

Leon let out a muffled moan, trying to fight against the pleasure. His cock was half-hard and tingling with need. His eyes widened as the cock in his mouth shuddered, shooting cum over his tongue before being pulled out. Leon turned his head and spat it out, small strings of it falling over his cheek. He could feel cum sliding out of his ass before a new man took the others place, taking his spot between Leon's legs. Two more took up either side of Leon, taking one hand each and placing them on their cocks. They forced him to stroke them over his face, forced him to watch him please them. He grit his teeth and shut his eyes. How long would he have to endure this?

Leon hissed as his ass was filled again and aching in pain. A firm pair of hands around his throat had his eyes snapping open. His airways closed, stopping him from taking in any air as he was fucked senseless. Slowly, the pain built up, starting as a low ache in his lungs and building into a sharp pressure in his head. His pupils dilated as he looked into the soldiers eyes, his lips parted, trembling from being unable to breathe. His vision blurred around the edges and it felt like water was filling his lungs, his mouth, pouring over him and flooding him, embracing him in its wet coldness. His heart skipped a beat and he trembled faintly from the ptsd.

The hands released his throat and Leon inhaled sharply, coughing in pain. The world was spinning and he couldn't make sense of what was happening for several seconds. The two men above him came simultaneously, cumming over Leon's mouth and cheeks. The man inside his ass gave two more thrusts before pulling out, cumming over Leon's cock and thighs.

He wasn't sure how long he lay on the cold floor, covered in cum and blood, being used by man after man. Each one took their fill and left, always, always being replaced by another. It was hours before he was finally left alone, numb, hurting, and staring at the roof. Even when a silhouette stood over him, his eyes remained unfocused, watering slightly.

"You didn't enjoy yourself? That's too bad." A familiar voice echoed around Leon, but he didn't move. The figure leaned down and dug his thumb into the cut on Leon's right arm, making him cry out and come back into the moment. He glared at Simmons, whose eyes were gleaming with malice. Simmons swiped his finger over Leon's cheek, making a streak in the cum. Leon turned his head away, breaking their eye contact.

Simmons leaned in close, his lips brushing Leon's ear.

"I haven't had my fun yet."

Leon's eyes widened as he felt Simmons' shudder, his arm breaking apart and turning into a mutated appendage with claws made from bone and sinew. He grabbed Leon's dress shirt and forced him to his feet. Leon tried to pull the claws free and was rewarded with a quick slash across the chest.

"Ahh!" Leon cried out and stumbled back, four long, jagged lines of blood welling up from the cuts. He received several more slashes in quick succession over his stomach, back, arms, and legs. He managed to stay standing, although he was swaying dangerously. Once Simmons was done toying with Leon, he threw the agent into the wall and pinned him. Leon struggled, which only irritated Simmons. He curled his claws around Leon's wrist and crushed it. Leon screamed in agony, trying to pull it free, but Simmons dug his claws into the flesh only making Leon tear the skin open. He let out a sob.

"Please… stop doing this to me."

Derek smirked. This was probably the most pitiful and pathetic he'd ever seen Leon, and fuck how it turned him on. He squeezed once more before releasing the damaged wrist and bringing his claws to Leon's mouth.

"Suck them clean."

Leon's eyes flicked from Derek to the claws, which were razor sharp and covered in rivers of blood. Leon's hesitance was becoming irritating and Derek hooked one on the agents lip and pulled, slicing it open. His lip welled with blood and he shut his eyes tightly, turning his head away and parting his lips.

Derek smirked and forced one claw into the agent's mouth, sliding it over Leon's tongue, forcing him to taste his pain. Leon let out a muffled moan, his tongue running up and down the sides of the claw and catching on the tip slightly, creating a small bead of blood. Derek inserted another and another until Leon had licked them completely clean. He removed the claws, watching as Leon's emerald green eyes fluttered open and met his own. He growled low in his throat, producing his cock. Leon watched his movements but didn't try to fight it. Perhaps his struggling had finally, finally ceased.

Leon gasped as he was lifted, his back pressed firmly against the wall, and his legs pushed up to his chest. Derek easily supported Leon's weight, guiding the head of his cock to Leon's ass. He thrusted hard, driving the entire length inside Leon in one quick movement.

"Aughh!" Leon cried out and fell forward, his fingers curling in Derek's dress shirt. Derek began fucking him, fast and hard from the get go. Fuck, he looked good like that, impaled on his cock and holding on for dear life. Leon's breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, their bodies moving together. He could feel Leon's warm blood stain his shirt.

Derek lowered Leon's legs, allowing him to wrap them behind his waist, enabling his cock to drive even deeper. He'd watched Leon's show with the other men. It was nothing like this, not at all. This was personal. Leon's reactions were different, and only for him. Derek smirked, watching as Leon's lust filled eyes fell open, giving him a look of mixed emotions.

Derek thrusted hard catching Leon by surprise. The agent cried out and fell forward, his arms wrapped around Derek's shoulders and his face pressed into the side of his neck. Leon's lips parted, his hot breaths caressing Derek's ear. Leon's fingers dug into his back, grasping and clawing at the clothed skin.

Leon's eyes widened as he felt himself being stretched further, as if Simmons' cock was growing inside of him.

"Oh fuck-" Leon gasped. Derek chuckled and continued his thrusting, his cock having taken on a more monstrous form. His lips tilted up in the smallest of smirks. Leon was in for a _big_ surprise.

Derek thrusted into Leon as fast as he could, driving his cock right into the agents prostate with bruising force. Leon moaned and cried out with every thrust, his back sliding up and down the wall. He leaned back, his eyes rolling back from the overwhelming pain and pleasure. In moments he was cumming, his ass clenching around Derek's massive cock.

"Are you ready Leon?"

Leon's eyes fluttered open and he looked at Simmons, confusion on his features. With no more warning Simmons came, a torrent of cum filling Leon completely.

"Auhhh!"

Simmons pulled out, the remainder of his cum spraying over Leon's chest, stomach, and thighs. He let out a shudder and regained his composure, releasing Leon's thighs and letting the spent agent collapse to the floor.

Leon barely managed to catch himself on his hands, gasping hard for air.

Derek walked out, the door slamming behind him. He passed several eager soldiers that had been waiting their second turn.

"Enjoy."


	14. Slave

Leon hissed as fingers curled in his hair, wrenching his head back. His eyes widened as a cock was quickly forced past his lips and thrusted to the back of his throat. He gagged and tried to pull away, his scalp stinging as his hair was pulled on harshly. He let out a muffled moan as the cock was thrusted in and out of his mouth over and over. Tears slid down his face as he looked up at his abuser. He was unsure of how long he'd been enduring the non-stop rape for. One day, maybe two? It seemed like every time he thought he might catch a break more soldiers filed into the room.

Leon turned his head as the cock was removed from his mouth and ropes of cum were shot over his face. Fuck, this was degrading. He didn't doubt Simmons was watching every second of it.

Leon spat some of the cum back on the soldier.

"Prick."

He was rewarded with a hard punch to the jaw that sent him crashing backwards onto the floor. He pushed himself onto his side and spat fresh blood from his mouth, the bright red crimson a stark comparison to all the pools and spots of his dark, dried blood already on the floor. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and glared up at the soldier, who growled at him and walked out of the room.

Leon's eyes fell on the door. His chances of escaping this time were slim to none. He doubted that Derek would allow him any chance to get close to anyone in the facility this time. There would be no one to help him or aid him. He was one-hundred and ten percent on his own.

No one else came into the room, and the emptiness had Leon questioning whether or not he'd been allowed some sort of reprieve from all the abuse and sex. His body was littered in cuts and bruises, most of which had been from Simmons, the worst of which were long purple marks where his fingers had dug into Leon's inner thighs whilst supporting him during their fuck. He let out a breath and reached for his discarded clothing. While he slowly dressed, every inch of his body aching in pain, he couldn't help but wonder if Chris had noticed he was missing yet.

 _Probably not._

Chris was a busy and important man. Leon's well-being had probably been placed somewhere near the middle or end of his list of things to check on. Leave it to his pessimistic mind to think up a bunch of negative crap that probably wasn't true. _Damnit. Why did he do this to himself?_

"Brooding are we?"

Leon pushed himself to his feet as Derek walked into the room. God, what he wouldn't give to punch that egocentrically self-obsessed asshole in his smug face. It was like he thought his existence was a gift to the world. _As if._ He stood shock still as Derek slowly walked around him and trailed his fingers down Leon's jawline. He stopped at Leon's side and gave him a questionable look.

"What's this?" He tugged at Leon's collar, exposing the veined flesh on his neck that travelled part way over his collarbone. Leon pulled away. No fucking way was he going to let Simmons make an experiment out of him.

"Hm."

Leon followed Derek's movements with jaded emerald eyes. Simmons was unpredictable when his mind wasn't clouded by anger. Leon pressed his lips into a thin line. He had no idea what could possibly lay in store for him from here on. He was sure the man would think of some new, fucked up way to torture him. A familiar dull ache had Leon gripping his stomach. He was beyond hungry, and sure that he'd have to do something morally degrading to earn some food.

Simmons let out a sigh and Leon raised an eyebrow.

"I guess you do have your needs. Let's go." He tucked a hand in one pocket and pushed his way through the door. When Leon didn't move, he growled slightly under his breath.

"Don't make me regret allowing you these generosities."

Leon pressed his lips together and followed the man. This facility seemed older and less high tech than the other. Fluorescent lights hung from the roof, the walls white tile and the floor an eggshell color. There was nothing to indicate where they were, and the hallways were void of anyone but them.

They entered a room that seemed to be some sort of living room. Attached was a small kitchen, bedroom and a bathroom. It was far from lavish but had a sort of homey feel to it.

"Don't get the wrong idea, it's not for you," Derek said, breaking Leon's trail of thought and shoving him towards the bathroom. "Now, clean yourself up you slut."

Leon glared at the older man over his shoulder as he left, closing the door behind him. He heard the distinct sound of the door being locked and sighed. He took a closer look at the small apartment, noticing there were no windows. He stepped inside the small bathroom and turned the water on hotter than it needed to be before shedding his clothes and stepping in. He moaned as the hot water pounded his bruised skin, washing away some of the grime and dried blood.

Leon ran his fingers through his unruly hair, doing his best to thread through the knots and pull apart the clumps left from the dried cum. He didn't think, knowing if he did so, he would lose himself in a storm of emotion. He let himself go through the motions, applying a gracious amount of the vanilla scented body wash and covering himself in it, scrubbing thoroughly. He scrubbed until every inch of his body was as clean as it could be on the outside and stepped out, turning off the water. He grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself off before slipping on his boxers and stepping in front of the fogged up mirror.

Leon rested his hands on the sink basin, unsure if he was ready to see his own reflection. He hadn't had a chance to take a look at the full extent of the damage Simmons had left on his body. He took a deep breath, letting it out as he wiped his hand across the mirror, creating a large portion that wasn't clouded by the condensation.

He let his eyes slowly lower, running over every bruise, every cut, every burn and scar on his body in the reflection before slowly rising. They stopped on the bite mark on his neck, taking in every jagged dark purple pattern that extended from the wound down his shoulder and partially up the side of his neck. After what felt like several long minutes, he met his own gaze. His eyes were dull at best, lacking their usual fiery burn. A sudden wash of anger consumed him making his skin tingle. He was angry at himself, for getting into this situation once again, and angry at Simmons for ruining his once perfect and unblemished body.

Leon let out a cry and curled his fingers, driving his fist into the mirror. The glass shattered, distorting his image with a spider web pattern from where his hand rested. He shook slightly, watching the blood well up and slide down his fingers. He was so fucking desensitized to it now he didn't care that he was bleeding. The blood inside him was tainted and had lost its worth. It did nothing now but provide the fuel to keep his dim fire burning. He slowly pulled his hand back, flexing his fingers and watching how the separated skin pulled back into place. He took a deep breath to steady himself and slipped his white dress shirt and black slacks back on.

A crashing noise had Leon's head snapping towards the bathroom door. He threw it open and ran out into the apartment, looking around, heart racing wildly. A low pitched hiss filled the air around him, and a licker walked out of the bedroom slowly, its claws creating small scratches on the wood flooring. Where the hell had the thing even come from? Had it been in here this whole time, only roused by his dramatic display?

The lickers tongue slipped out of its mouth, flicking and tasting the air as it walked towards him. Leon clutched his hand as he realized it could smell his fresh blood. His eyes scanned the room for anything he could use as a weapon but came up short. How could he deal with a b.o.w. barehanded?

Leon took a step back, the floor creaking under his weight. The lickers head snapped forward and it stared right at him almost like it could see him. Leon held his breath as the creature approached, the tips of its claws coated in dried blood. Leon ran past it, the creature hissing and spinning before chasing him. He tried the door hard, the handle not turning. He slammed into it twice with his shoulder but it didn't give. He spun, narrowly avoiding getting impaled as it landed on the wall beside him, its claws digging into the drywall. Leon ran towards the bedroom and the licker jumped onto his back, making him crash to the floor under its weight. Leon rolled onto his back and stared up at the creature horrified. He tried to pull himself free but it pressed its claws into his chest, holding him down.

The licker pulled one clawed paw back high into the air, hissing loudly. Leon didn't think. He shot his hand out and grabbed the creature's brain, digging his fingers into it. The licker let out a cry of pain and Leon matched it with one of anger, fueled by an unknown power. The flesh pulled back from his fingers as the bone snapped into sharp claws. He ripped the creature's brain right out of its head, screaming as the body fell to his side, limp and unmoving. He crawled back until his back hit the wall, his chest heaving from fear and adrenaline as he looked at his bloody hand. The skin and bone shifted back into place, leaving the faintest of patters from where it had broken apart. Leon didn't move as the door opened, staring at his hand in shock. It wasn't until Simmons had knelt down in front of him did he raise his wide, shimmering eyes. The older man had a look of satisfaction on his face.

"Like it or not, you're _just like me._ "

Leon didn't struggle as he was grabbed by the wrist and led out of the room. His gaze never lifted from the floor as he tried to comprehend what was happening. He'd actually shifted his flesh and bone, just like Simmons was able to, and now the man knew he was more than human. Leon's lip trembled as he realized what this meant. The man was going to experiment on him now.

They entered a small, sterile room that looked similar to one you'd find in a hospital. There was a laid back chair in the center surrounded by rolling metal carts with an adjustable light ahead. Simmons pushed him into the chair and he stared at the wall until his gaze unfocused. He couldn't grasp the enormity of his situation. He'd lost his humanity, just like the J'avo back in China that were willingly infecting themselves with the C-Virus to regrow limbs and mutate into monsters.

Leon blinked his vision clear as he felt his wrists being secured by thick leather straps to the arms of the chair. He didn't bother testing them; he knew he wouldn't be able to pull free without trying. The leather was tight and bit into his skin slightly if he moved his hands. His eyes followed Simmons as the man walked around to his other side, pulling up a chair and a clipboard. Would he be able to mutate on the level Simmons could in time? Would he kill innocent people and be hunted by the B.S.A.A. and D.S.O., by Chris and Sherry and Jake? His lips pulled up in a sad smile. That was _if_ he ever escaped from this place and say the light of day again.

 _"_ _Leon."_

"What?" Leon shook his head slightly, barely registering his name.

"I said 'how do you _feel_ '?"

Leon kept his eyes on the roof as he let his mind wander. How _did_ he feel? A mix of emotions flowed through him, and he was unable to pinpoint which one held the most weight in his heart. He _felt_ like he was no longer human. A part of him _felt_ like there was no point in fighting anymore. He _felt…_

"Hopeless." The words came out as a whisper. What exactly had caused him to be so forthcoming with the other man? He despised him with every part of his being, or so he thought… Perhaps he was just tired of fighting it all.

"Physically, not emotionally."

Derek searched Leon's features. Perhaps he had finally won and broken the agent. He fought back a smirk. If he'd known infecting him would be his breaking point, he would have done it much, much sooner. Up until now he'd assumed the zombies bite had no effect on the agent, but he was wrong. His eyes found the marks that barely showed above Leon's collar, the purple jagged pattern that emanated from the bite wound. It had been weeks since Leon had been bitten, and his mutation was moving much slower than his own. It was only 6 hours until Derek had been able to shift his form. Perhaps Leon's immunity to T and his previous infection with the Las Plagas played a role in that. He wrote a few notes onto the paper before returning his gaze back to the younger man. His eyes were unfocused and dull, lacking their usual fiery burn. Oh how he loved to see Leon so, as the man had put it, "hopeless".

Leon's eyes met Derek's. Perhaps he should just give into his wishes. He couldn't go back to the outside world, not like this. If he remained here, he wouldn't risk hurting anyone. He swallowed the lump in his throat before looking away.

"I feel fine." Leon said. It was true; he didn't feel any different than he had before he'd been bitten.

Leon pulled nervously at his bonds as the older man scribbled something on the clipboard.

"Are you going to experiment on me?" Leon swallowed his fear as the older man met his gaze.

"Not if you behave."

"Alright, I will." Leon said, defeated.

"And what makes you think I can trust you?" Derek leaned back, crossing his arms.

"Because I'm tired of fighting you."

Derek considered this. Part of him knew better than to trust the agent. He'd betrayed his trust once already and had managed to escape. He could always lock him in a secluded part of the facility, away from anyone else. He would never escape on his own, and his men knew better than to go snooping around. He'd lock it with two access cards he'd keep on himself at all times.

"I want new wardrobe. And some food. I'm fucking starving. Then we'll call it even."

"Very well," Derek undid the leather restraints and Leon rubbed his wrists. He sent a quick message on his phone and pocketed it. "But after we are going to finish our chat."

"Yeah, yeah." Leon grumbled. Derek stood and produced a bottle of water from the mini-fridge nearby. He handed it to Leon and the agent downed its contents quickly before standing. Derek led the way, a small smirk tugging at his lips. They approached the door and he opened it, making sure the agent went in first. Leon staggered slightly, bracing his hand on the wall.

"What the hell?" Leon turned as Derek stood in the doorway.

"Sorry Leon, but my men get one last chance with you before you are off limits."

He saw the flash of fear in Leon's eyes before he turned, walking away. Leon stepped forward, intending to run after the man only to collapse to his hands and knees. The fucking asshole had drugged him again! He lifted his head to see the armored soldiers walk in, some even adorning their weapons. They must have been privy to his condition and know he wouldn't be able to escape. Leon pushed himself up, his knee's bent slightly, panting hard. They surrounded him and he swallowed, looking around. There were five in total, just in the room. He could faintly make out the sounds of others waiting in the hallway.

His arms were grabbed from behind and pulled back tight causing Leon to let out a gasp. He gritted his teeth, leaning his weight back and kicking out at one of the approaching soldiers. He fell back before Leon was quickly advanced on. His legs were grabbed and lifted by a soldier on either side of him. He grit his teeth and struggled uselessly, unable to break free in his weakened state. One of the men approached, grabbing handfuls of Leon's dress shirt and pulling. Leon gasped as the buttons were ripped off and it hung to either side of his exposed chest.

Suddenly a black cloth was pulled over his eyes and tied behind his head, leaving him with no vision. Leon felt a firm hold on his pants before they were ripped open. A hand brushed over his cock and he bit back a moan before they were pulled off, along with his boxers. Leon could feel the flush on his cheeks from the combination of embarrassment and stimulation from the drugs. A firm wetness pressed against his ass and he shook his head, crying out as a cock was forced into him. His assaulter began thrusting immediately, picking up a fast pace. It wasn't long before he could feel the tremble of the cock inside him and cum shoot into him. The cock was removed and quickly replaced with another.

The arms holding Leon released and he fell forward into his assaulter's arms. His fingers dug into the fabric of the man's vest so hard his knuckles turned white. His breaths came in heavy pants, his skin tingling slightly. He reached up to pull the blindfold off only to have his wrists seized and handcuffed tightly together.

"Fuck..!" Leon hissed, his body quickly becoming sore. His cock was painfully hard, pressed between them and wetting his stomach with his pre-cum. His second assaulter finished and he was released before once again being grabbed from behind. He was set down slowly onto another hard cock making him throw his head back. His back arched against his will as he was thrusted up into hard. He could feel the cum sliding out of his ass and working as a lubricant.

Fingers tangled in his hair, jerking his head to the side. Leon groaned in pain, quickly silenced as a cock was pushed past his lips and to the back of his throat. He shut his eyes tightly under the blindfold fighting off his gag reflex. His mouth was filled with the salty taste of pre-cum as it was fucked, the rhythm matching that of the one in his ass. He was incredibly aroused, every synapse super-firing and making every single movement twice as painful and pleasurable than it should be. He moaned in protest around the cock in his mouth but was silenced by having it driven to the back of his throat as punishment.

"Mhhnnn!"

The cock was removed from his mouth and after a second delay ropes of cum shot over his cheek. Strong hands grabbed his waist and forced him to lay back as a second pair of hands pushed his legs up to his chest. Leon felt the second cock pressing against the first, begging for entrance. He shook his head wildly and let out an array of muffled protests and cusses, some easily discernable yet he was ignored. His ass stretched painfully as the very tip of the second cock began pushing inside. Leon's whole body trembled from the stinging pain, his jaw hanging open in a silent scream as his insides tore to accommodate such thickness.

Leon struggled in an attempt to pull himself off of the cocks but the man underneath him threw an arm over his shoulders and pressed it hard against his neck. The one between his legs grabbed his wrists, pulling on them and making him arch his back. They thrusted inside of him, one cock going in while the other pulled out, over and over. Leon let out an array of pained moans, his fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms.

It wasn't long before they came inside him, filling him completely. They pulled out and he was thrown onto the floor, barely catching himself on his hands. He panted slightly, trying to catch his breath as he recovered from the sexual onslaught. He reached up and removed the blindfold, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light.

Leon let out a surprised gasp as he was grabbed by the shirt and lifted before being spun. He was slammed back against the wall hard enough to be winded and let out a groan.

"Thanks for the fuck, baby. But you've outlived your usefulness." Leon's eyes widened as the soldier drew a long, standard issue combat knife. The top half closest to the handle had small serrations, and end of the bottom tilted up in a slight curve. He looked around desperately, noticing that everyone else had left. The man raised the knife and drove it down towards Leon's chest. The agent barely managed to catch his hands, stopping it inches from his heart. His arms shook as he attempted to push him back but was unable to overpower him in his drugged state. Leon's muscles gave and the knife plunged into his chest, just below his left collarbone. He screamed as the white hot pain filled his core, his vision filled which flecks of black. The soldier ripped the knife out and stepped back, the force causing Leon to fall onto the floor. He rolled onto his back and covered the wound with his hands, still bound together by the hand cuffs. They quickly became wet with his warm blood and he took in a shallow, sharp gasp of air. His eyes fluttered, becoming unfocused as he stared up at the roof. Here he was, yet again on the line between living and dying.

Leon's eyes fluttered as he fought to keep them open. He swallowed the blood in his mouth and could faintly make out sounds nearby. Metallic screeching, and a high pitched ringing noise that only lasted a second. Then rushed footsteps.

 _"_ _Leon."_ He recognized his name, yet it sounded far away. A figure came into his field of vision and he squinted his eyes, trying to make it out. He could feel hands at his, grabbing at the chain between the cuffs and breaking it. A strong arm slid under his back and another under his knees before lifting him. He gritted his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly and grabbing at the silky fabric of his saviours shirt with one hand, the other falling towards the floor. He didn't have the strength to keep his head up and let it fall back, his bangs parting and swaying slightly as he was carried through a maze of hallways. He tried to open his eyes only to be blinded by a flash of white. He felt unbearably dizzy.

 _"_ _Leon?"_ That voice again, it was tempting to rouse him like a noise that reaches you in your dreams and forces you to wake up. Leon let himself be swept away by the nothingness for a few more moments before he was laid on something cold and metallic. His eyebrows knitted together faintly as he attempted to make sense of his surroundings. He tested his arm, but instead of raising it his fingers barely twitched.

 _"_ _It's severed his superior vena cava. The blood loss is too much, he's going into shock. Prepare a transfusion bag."_

Leon's faded in and out of consciousness. He could no longer distinguish the voices around him, or understand what they were saying. Why was dying taking so long? He remembered the vast blackness that had engulfed him after he'd drowned. The eternal nothingness after Simmons had collapsed his lung and he'd suffocated to death. This… _in-between_ …place was agonizing.

"Fucking do _something_." Derek seethed, pacing back and forth.

"Sir, we're doing everything we can. It's extremely difficult to repair a damaged heart. And even if he does survive, any sort of mild trauma could cause a rupture and death by internal bleeding."

"What the hell?" The nurse ran into the room at the sound of the surgeons voice.

"What is it now?!" Derek ran over and stopped. The wound was threading closed before their eyes. His lips parted in shock. So Leon really _was_ no longer completely human.

"The bleeding has stopped completely…" The surgeon said, lost for words as he wiped the wound clean revealing a white scar where the gaping hole had been only moments ago. Derek stepped back and sat on a chair on the opposite side of the room, the enormity of what this meant consuming him. Leon was exactly like him now. He'd depend on Derek to learn how to use and control his abilities.

The surgeon and nurse began packing up the supplies before leaving the room. Derek sighed and ran a hand through his slightly unkempt hair. His eyes fell on the unconscious agent and he stood, walking over to the side of the metal table. His eyes searched over every inch of Leon, noting how all of the wounds were now completely healed. The long cuts on his arms were thin, white scars. All of the bruises had faded. Every non serious wound on his body had left no evidence of ever being there.

Derek slid his arms under the agent and picked him up, walking out of the room. Leon was still mostly naked, with the exception of his dress shirt that hung loosely at his elbows, and was covered in blood and cum. He stopped at a metal sliding door and swiped two key cards before it slid open and he stepped inside.

Derek walked through the first door on the right, into a lavish apartment. His orders had already been followed through, which had included providing all the basic necessities Leon could need. He stepped into the bedroom and lay Leon on the plush down comforter, grabbing the other half and draping it over him. He gave the unconscious man one last look before walking out of the room. He had some tests to prepare for.


	15. Allies

p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon sat up quickly with a gasp. He was overcome with a sudden dizziness and brought a hand to his head. The events of the previous night came back to him and he looked around the room. He was in some sort of lavish bedroom. He tossed the covers aside, checking his naked body for wounds. He was covered in dried blood, but where the stab wound should be just below his left collarbone, there was a thin white scar. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"What the Hell? /span/em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, walking to the opposite side of the room and pulling back the silk drapes concealing the window. He squinted as the overwhelming about of white blinding him temporarily before his eyes adjusted. It was snowing hard, the world a storm of pure white. It seemed like he was on the second or third floor. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Letting the drapes fall shut, Leon turned and walked out of the room. There was a bathroom down the hall to the left, a large kitchen, living room, and even a second, smaller bedroom. He tried what he assumed was the door to the facility, but it didn't budge. He let out a sigh and went to the bathroom. Hopefully when he washed himself off this time he'd remain clean. He turned the water on hot and stepped under the spray of water, tilting his head back. There was an array of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash on the small shelves. He busied himself by grabbing the body wash, which was mint scented, and applied a generous dollop on his hand before washing his body. He repeated the process with the shampoo, gritting his teeth as he worked out the knots from his hair./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"The solitude was nice and he welcomed it, but it wasn't long before he regretted it. He hadn't been alone with his thoughts in quite some time, and everything that he'd pushed down came rising to the surface. He became lost in thought, staring at the white tile wall until his vision lost focus. So much had happened in such a small amount of time. He'd been tortured relentlessly. He'd given in to Simmons. Become his sex toy. Lost his humanity. His will to live…/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon fell back against the wall and let himself slide down it until he was sitting on the floor, the water cascading over his body. His vision blurred as his eyes welled up with tears, but he didn't fight them. He'd never been much of a crier, but given his situation he didn't care anymore. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"He had no idea how long he sat there. Long enough that the water had gone cold and his tears finally ceased to fall. His eyes fell on his knuckles, where only hours ago the skin had been cut and torn from punching the mirror in the other apartment. Now it was healed and flawless, no evidence any damage had been done. He wondered if he could even die now. He'd survived a fatal wound, who'd say it couldn't happen again?/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon flexed his fingers, staring at the flesh of his pointer finger until it pulled back and cracked into a sharp claw. It didn't take much thought at all. A small smile pulled at his lips, disgusted at himself, barely able to look at the appendage. He could try, just to see what would happen. He'd considered suicide before; the tempting thought to take his own life had been recurring for years after what happened in raccoon city. But he'd owed it to the world to be a savior, to keep fighting and eradicating the viruses so humanity could survive. But as he thought of all the lives he'd lost, the friends, and family, losing focus of everything important as he was consumed by grief. He didn't hesitate as he slashed it over his wrist, deep enough to sever the ulnar and radial veins. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon gritted his teeth together hard through the pain. The skin split and blood poured out of the wound instantly, running down his arm in thick rivers. He muttered under his breath, counting every second that passed. It took only twenty seconds before it began to thread closed and the bleeding stopped completely. Leon held his arm under the water as the remnants of the blood was washed away, leaving a thin white scar. He let his head fall back against the tile. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Guess I'm in it for the long run…"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"-span style="mso-tab-count: 1;" /span/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"His new wardrobe consisted of a variety of clothes, some of which strikingly similar to the one he had at home. It ranged from everything like dress clothes to casual wear. There was a good twenty different pairs of everything. It felt strange having the option to choose what to wear, instead of being condemned to wear his dirty, blood clothing from when he'd been taken. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"Again/em, he reminded himself. He opted for a form fitting black t-shirt and black denim jeans. The clothing fit surprisingly well and he slipped into a pair of black sneakers before letting himself out of the bedroom. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"A large variety of food adorned the small counter space in the kitchen, including luscious fruits and vegetables. Leon's mouth water as he approached slowly opening the fridge to confirm his suspicions. A variety of meats and cheese, drinks and sauces lined the entirety of the inside. His mouth watered as he eyed a pack of steak./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"The process of cooking felt so em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"foreign /emto him. It had been well over a month since he'd actually had to make a meal for himself, the task seeming all too normal and human. He busied himself with adding several spices which he'd found in one of the cupboards as he fried the meat. The smell was heavenly and he let out a pleased moan. He could barely wait for the meat to finish cooking, choosing to have it rare. He didn't bother getting a plate, taking a fork and knife and cutting a piece off the edge of the meat. It tasted amazing, much better than the small amount of food he'd actually received in his entire time captive. The door to the apartment was pushed open. He spun instinctively, his hands gripping the counter behind him as Simmons walked into the room./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Enjoying yourself?" The man asked, clad in a grey dress shirt and black slacks. His fingers were pushed into the pockets of his pants, giving him a careless sort of look, which was quite unlike him. Leon relaxed, his posture losing its tension./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""I was until you showed up." The agent leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles, giving Simmons a hard look./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""I kept up my end of the bargain, now you're coming with me, willing or not." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon sighed. As much as he didn't like it, they'd made a deal. He'd do anything to not be dissected and experimented on like a lab rat. He thought of how he'd been stabbed and almost killed, how Simmons had once again saved him, and that his near-death wasn't caused by the hands of the older man this time. He tried to imagine how it would be now that he couldn't be tortured mercilessly. Was he really going to spend forever here, a prisoner to the man he'd hated so fondly only four weeks ago?/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon followed Simmons, noting that the door they passed through required the swipe of two different key cards. He was lead into a large room much similar to the one he'd first awoken in. It was mostly bare, the walls eggshell white, the floors old, scratched tile. Leon stopped and crossed his arms./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Alright, now what?" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Show me what you are capable of."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon held up his hands, shaking his head slightly. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""You gonna be a bit more detailed?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"The older man reached out, turning his hand palm up as his fingers uncurled. The skin split, the bones cracking apart and snapping back together as they changed, connected by strings of exposed sinew. His arm had become adorned with long, sharp blades of bone that ran down the length, stopping at his wrist. His fingers curled into long claws with deadly sharp tips as he extended them. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon looked away. He didn't want to metamorphosis, to be reminded that he was no longer human. He'd never be welcomed back into the world how he was. He'd only changed once willingly, and was unsure of his potential. He didn't want to be capable of changing his form, and he was almost too scared to try. He let out a breath, extending his arm without turning his head. The flesh on his hand and arm began to ripple before tearing apart, pulling back and revealing the bone beneath it. He trembled slightly, keeping his eyes tightly closed, willing it to stop at his elbow. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon gasped as he was pulled by his hand, his eyes snapping open. Their fingers were locked together and Simmons' eyes were shining with a mixture of delight and malice. Leon's wide eyes lowered to hand and forearm and he pulled back roughly, shaking his head. He fell back onto the ground, watching in horror as the flesh knit itself back together, leaving no evidence except the thin red lines that ran jagged over his skin./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""I-I can't." His breaths came fast and heavy, looking panicked as Derek knelt down in front of him./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""And why is that?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""I can't do it because I'm not a monster!" Leon yelled at the older man, running his hands over his face and dragging his fingers through his hair. "I am now em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"everything /emI stand against, everything I have spent my life eradicating from the face of the planet. I'm less than human."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Be that as it may, you have a new set of perks you should learn to use at your disposal."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon scoffed and stood. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've always been a monster." The only thing that stopped him from walking out was the fact that he had made a deal with the older man. If he suddenly refused he was sure Simmons would love to go back to torturing and raping him. Instead he paced back and forth across the room, ignoring the dark gaze silently watching him./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Are you finished brooding? There are tests I'd like to run whether you are willing or not."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Yeah, fine." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon followed the man back through the winding hallways. They quickly arrived at some sort of laboratory. His eyes caught on the gleam of a metallic set of tools, ranging from scalpels to forceps, haemostats, clamps, syringes, and other devices. Leon stopped, his eyes going to Derek's back./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""What kind of 'tests' exactly?"/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Sit." Derek gestured to the metal table on the edge of the room. Leon lifted himself and sat, watching the older man with wary eyes as he produced a syringe and several vials. He attached the first to the syringe and approached./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Figures." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""I need to take it if we want our answers. What, exactly, caused you to contract the virus? Was it the T infested zombie bite that weakened your immune system enough for my C infected bodily fluids to cause your cells to mutate?" His voice softened, as if he was talking to himself. Leon shut his eyes tightly as the tip of the needle pushed into a vein on his inner arm./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"It's just a blood test, nothing to worry about… /span/em/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"How many times had Simmons injected him with some unknown solutions that he had become victim to? Too many times to count. Somehow his thoughts wandered back to the introduction of the C-Virus, the first infected appearing in Washington, and the large scale outbreak in China…/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""What happened in China? I mean, since I've been gone. Is it… over?" Leon asked hesitantly. It was an answer he almost didn't want to know the answer to. But he had to know. It was still his responsibility to help eradicate all traces of the C-Virus, including Simmons… and himself. He'd save the pessimistic thoughts for later./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""It's still happening, but on a much larger scale. Shanghai, Hong Kong, Zhengzhou and everything between is now a dead zone. The death toll is in the hundreds of thousands, infected in the millions."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"A chill of pure horror went down Leon's spine. The C-Virus was now the most fatal of all of the viruses. Anyone infected would either die or spread the infection./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""What about Jake? His blood contains the antibodies… haven't they mass produced the cure yet?" Leon asked hopefully. Simmons shook his head, removing the syringe. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""It seems Jake has gone off the grid. Even with offers of millions of dollars, he still turned down the chance to willingly give up his blood. He has other priorities." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon stood abruptly, giving the older man a hard gaze. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""We're going to China."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"It was the first thing he had been extremely sure of since his escape. If Jake wasn't going to give up the cure, they would take it from him. He owed it to every single person he let down. Once the weight of how many he lost truly sunk in, he didn't know if he'd be able to live with the guilt. He'd have to save more than those lost./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""And what, exactly, makes you think you can find him? I've had teams of men in the midst of chaos for em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"days,/em em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"weeks/em even. The last time he was sighted was ten days ago, and there hasn't been a trace yet."/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Even in the face of death, one mustn't give up hope." Leon said surely. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""And what makes you believe I can trust you? After all, running is in your nature." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon couldn't deny that./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""There's something I want more than to run from you. I want to be human again. And I know you do too. It's the reason you tortured me, after all. Now, we find Jake, extract his blood, and work on creating a cure. Then we worry about everything else after." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon held his ground, holding the older man's unreadable gaze. Finally, after several long moments, Simmons sighed. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Fine, let's get going then, shall we?" /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon smirked and nodded, following the older man through the winding hallways once more. While he hadn't quite gotten accustomed to the fact that they were on the same side now, it was somewhat relieving that they had common ground. He didn't doubt that Simmons wanted the cure just as much as him, if not more. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"They entered a dark room and Simmons flicked on the light, sliding his hands into his pockets, a smirk on his face. Leon walked into the room slowly, his eyes shining as he slowly took in what could have been every weapon he'd ever heard of and then some. Each weapon sat in its proper place across the walls. Several shelves stood in the middle of the room, overflowing with piles upon piles of loaded clips and loose bullets. Tactical and Kevlar vests, camouflage, protective, and thermal gear adorned several mannequins. The place looked exactly like the scene where the good guys gear up before the climax of the movie. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Sweet Jesus, I'm in love." Leon whispered, his lips pulling up into a grin. He looked back at Simmons, who gestured to the expanse of the room./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Help yourself. Nothing you want is off limits. But," he approached Leon, his gaze turning serious, "once we obtain the blood, you must help me create the cure. Even if it comes down to testing it on yourself." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon's smile vanished, replaced with a solemn look. Would he be willing to be subject to more tests, excruciating pain, irreversible damage, and perhaps death? The lives of millions of people hung in the balance. There was no room for selfishness, and he didn't give it a second thought. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Alright. We're in this together, until the end." /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"There was something slightly reassuring about his words. He knew without a doubt that if it came down to it, he would sacrifice himself to save even one person. If he could play part in stopping the most deadly virus known to man, he could redeem himself as a hero once more, and begin reversing the damage that had been coming undone since his capture. But, unlike every battle before, this time he wasn't alone. Sure, he'd had partners, and rescues, but nothing like this. Although he was still slightly unsure of Simmons' true intentions, they both wanted the same thing, and he trusted the man wouldn't betray him, just as Simmons trusted him to not run. The feeling was borderline giddy. He turned back to the large room of weapons. Choices, choices…/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Leon walked up, admiring the large variety of pistols, all in sets of two. He instinctively reached out but stopped, his eyes falling on the still slightly scarred skin of his damaged hand. He'd have to choose something else…/span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Suddenly Simmons was pressed up against him from behind, and Leon gave the man a look over his shoulder. He ignored Leon, reaching past him and grabbing a Colt 1911. The gun was metallic black, the grip made from an off white bone, perhaps from moose or elk antlers. It was a beautiful gun. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""My personal favorite." He set the gun in Leon's hand, the agent turning it and admiring it. The weight felt reassuring and he sighed in relief. It had felt like forever since a gun had been in his hand, the agent having been subconsciously vulnerable without his weapons. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""You know I can't shoot for shit now…" Leon sighed and went to put the weapon back. Derek grabbed him by the wrist and spun him around so they were face to face, so close their breath mingled in the small space between them. /span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Like I said, you have a new set of perks at your disposal. Use them." Leon gasped as he was pulled flush against the older man's waist, the embrace uncomfortable but welcome. Leon wavered under the intense gaze, looking away and giving a slight nod. The older man finally pulled away and grabbed a large black duffel bag, dropping it on the floor and unzipping it. Leon grabbed the sister gun and set them inside before going to collect an excessive amount of ammo, slipping it into extra clips./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"Neither of them spoke as Leon chose and collected his weapons. Once finished, he zipped up the bad and approached one of the mannequins, eyeing up a black leather torso piece. It was simple: one strap went around each shoulder, then connected in the back and front by horizontal straps. Off the sides hung two holsters and three ammo pouches on each side, which hung down against his hip. He unbuckled it and slipped it on. It was firm yet snug and accented his figure nicely, his pectorals bulging slightly. He grabbed the bag and threw it over his shoulder./span/p  
p class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 40.7pt;"span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;""Alright, let's go."/span/p 


End file.
